


Not Quite What the Doctor Ordered

by Arionrhod, McKay



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-05 00:25:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 33,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11002107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arionrhod/pseuds/Arionrhod, https://archiveofourown.org/users/McKay/pseuds/McKay
Summary: Severus Snape is a brilliant diagnostician, but it turns out that Remus Lupin is a very difficult case, in more ways than one.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2007.

A file folder hit the desk in front of Severus' nose, and he looked up with a scowl. "What in the bloody hell is this, and why are you flinging it at me?" he snapped at the tall, dark-haired man who stood in from of him. It wasn't enough that Regulus Black was a damned good cardiologist; he also had an annoying talent for being able to creep up on people with uncanny stealth. Not that it was particularly difficult to sneak up on Severus when he was deep in contemplation of a case; his single-mindedness was almost as legendary as his volatile temper.

Almost.

Unperturbed by the sharp question, Regulus merely leaned forward over the desk with an enigmatic smile and tapped the folder with one slender finger. "Let's just call it... a challenge."

"Hmpf." Severus leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "What is it, does Malfoy have another hangnail? Or perhaps you want me to find a brain in Nurse Trelawney's empty head. At least that really _would_ be a challenge." The sarcasm dripping from his words was almost visible, and it had been known to reduce first year residents to tears. "I don't have time for trivialities, Black. I'm a busy man, so state what's on your mind or get out."

Regulus dropped into the chair across from Severus, the tone earning nothing more than a lifted brow and a twinkle from Regulus' pale grey eyes. That was the trouble with having gone to medical school with someone and having that same someone stand by you during the lowest, most wretched time of your life, Severus thought sourly. Worse than contempt, familiarity seemed to have bred tolerant amusement; fortunately, however, no one other than Regulus was sufficiently brave - or perhaps stupid - enough to get that close.

"Malfoy's symptoms these days are more like sore knees and brown-stained lips from kissing all those politicians' arses," Regulus replied, waving a hand dismissively, even though the despised hospital director was related to him by marriage. "Or perhaps muscle spasms from sneering at the insurance executives. But no, this doesn't pertain to either our Fearless Leader or your favorite nurse. It's closer to home than that. Well, for me at least." 

Regulus leaned forward, his expression turning serious, which immediately got Severus' attention. As well as Regulus knew Severus, Severus also knew his friend. Regulus could perform a quadruple bypass without losing his smile or mussing his hair, and he could flirt with every nurse in the room over someone's open chest cavity; for him to look concerned meant he was worried, and that was enough to make Severus sit up and take notice. 

"All right, I'll listen, _this time_ , but you owe me a double mocha espresso," Severus replied, waving at the folder. "What is it?"

"A friend of mine, actually. He's head of Pediatric Endocrinology at The Evelina's Children's Hospital," Regulus said, naming one of the newest and most prestigious hospitals for children in London. "He started having symptoms about eight weeks ago, just after coming back from a vacation to Spain: dizziness, shortness of breath, profuse cold sweats, pain and tingling in the extremities. Naturally he assumed it was his heart and came to me."

Severus tapped a finger against his chin as he listened to Regulus' description. "Naturally," he said neutrally, even though it was a reasonable enough diagnosis. "Only it wasn't."

"No." Regulus shook his head and sighed. "He was acute by the time he got to me. Cyanotic, breathing so labored I was afraid he was going to collapse in my office. I admitted him at once, ran a whole gamut of tests, and... nothing. As suddenly as they appeared, the symptoms vanished, without me having given him any treatment other than oxygen and two aspirin. One minute the man's at Death's door, then the next, he's as hale and hearty as ever."

"How long did these symptoms last?" Severus asked, intrigued despite himself. He couldn't resist a conundrum or stand to leave any mystery unsolved, as Regulus well knew. This wasn't the first time Regulus had come to him with a puzzling case.

"From onset to disappearance, perhaps eight hours all told from the time he noticed." Regulus' frown deepened. "He was on oxygen for about two while we ran him through the MRI. Somewhere between coming out of the machine and being wheeled back to his room, his symptoms abruptly went away, all at once. And the MRI showed nothing; the man's got one of the healthiest hearts I've ever seen."

"Poisoning? Some neurotoxins have that kind of effect, and when the body clears them out, the symptoms vanish. Perhaps something he ate on vacation?" 

"I thought of that, too, and had a whole series of labs done on him," Regulus replied. "Negative for everything in that arena. And no evidence of insect or snake bites, no traumas, no allergies to anything we tested. For all intents and purposes, it simply disappeared."

"Mental aberration?" Severus didn't bother to tread lightly around the topic, no matter that the man in question was a friend of Regulus'. "None of those symptoms is unknown in psychosomatic illnesses."

"No." Regulus answered firmly, with a complete assurance that caused Severus to raise a brow himself this time. "Believe me, when you meet him, you'll see. He's very down to earth, stable, with no major issues. A very personable man and not given to imagining things; it's part of the reason why he's so good at his job."

"It's hard to diagnose something long after the fact," Severus said, shrugging slightly. "Too many things change. If he's fine now, then..."

"Oh, he was fine _then_ , but he wasn't about four weeks ago," Regulus interrupted. "He was asymptomatic for about a month, no trace of problems. I had him checking his blood pressure every day, taking an aspirin, de-stressing, healthy diet... you know, the whole cardiac health regime, even though I was pretty certain his heart was absolutely fine. It doesn't hurt to be careful, after all."

"But it didn't help?" From the look on Regulus' face, it obviously hadn't.

"That's questionable. Either it helped for a month, or perhaps it didn't do anything at all, but suddenly, he was back. Same symptoms, same treatment, _everything_. We put him on oxygen again, ran the tests _again_ , and the same results. For several hours, he looked like the most severe coronary you've ever seen, then between one breath and the next, he's back to normal as though nothing had ever happened to him!"

"And I'm sure this annoyed you. It would certainly annoy _me_." Severus snorted. "Damned ingrate, getting sick, then getting well, all without you really doing anything." He tapped the file again. "Let me guess... you sent him home with oxygen after that?"

"Exactly." Regulus didn't seem fazed by Severus' picking up on his treatment, which was pretty much by the book. "More tests, of course, all of which were negative or inconclusive, but since oxygen seemed to help - or at least it was the commonality between the first occurrence and the second - I sent him home with a CPAP machine to use at night and a bottle to keep handy for daytime. I thought that if he had a recurrence, immediate intervention might arrest the worst of the symptoms."

"And?"

"And nothing!" Regulus sighed in frustration. "Another several weeks with no symptoms, then they crop up again. He used the CPAP machine every night, and when the latest attack started, he immediate went for the oxygen bottle. He used it for a good hour before deciding it wasn't helping and came back in. We're going through it all again, and it's the same as the first two times."

"He's here now?" Severus sat up, feeling a stirring of intellectual curiosity. He rose to his feet impatiently, snatching up the file as he stepped around his desk. "Why didn't you say so? How long has he been symptomatic?"

"About four hours by now," Regulus answered, rising as well and following Severus' long-legged strides toward the door. "He's in Cardiac Intensive Care. We have the best monitoring equipment there."

"All right," Severus said, nodding with sudden decisiveness. As he stepped into the bustling hallway of St. Thomas' Hospital and turned toward the lifts, he glanced down at the neat label on the folder tab and gave Regulus a sidewise glance. "Let's grab a cup of coffee, then go have a look at your Mr. Remus Lupin, and see if we can't figure out why he's being such a pain in your arse. Although I have to say, if he's giving you grief, I think I might like him already."

* * *

The sound of the heart monitor was steady, a normal rhythm that was rather unusual - but certainly welcome - to hear on the Cardiac Intensive Care ward. "Well, he doesn't _sound_ like a heart patient," Severus groused as he entered the room of Regulus' friend. His eyes were immediately drawn to the figure which lay on the bed, as pale and unmoving as death. The man's lips were blue-tinged, and his hair was sweat-soaked and pushed back from his damp, pallid forehead. There were dark circles under his eyes, almost like bruises, and Severus had to watch closely to catch the almost imperceptible rise and fall of the man's chest to make certain he was breathing, despite the constant bleep of the cardiograph and the low hiss of the nasal tube supplying oxygen.

"Bloody well looks like one, though," Severus murmured, his eyes narrowing as he strode toward the bed. He picked up the patient's slender wrist, encircling it with his fingers and feeling for a pulse as he glanced at his wristwatch to keep time. It was there, barely, and he frowned. "Pulse thready, beds of the fingernails as blue as your mother's wig, skin cold and clammy..."

"Although as warm as yours is, I wouldn't mind you climbing in with me to help heat me up," came a weak voice from the bed, and Severus looked over at the patient in surprise. Despite his close resemblance to a corpse, Lupin's tone managed to convey a hint of amusement, and the eyes which surveyed Severus seemed to blaze like molten gold even sunken as they were in the dark-tinged sockets. Severus blinked, feeling an odd shock of awareness as their gazes met.

Caught by surprise, Severus was torn between a glare of indignation and a snort of disbelief at the patient's nonsense. He settled for dropping Lupin's hand back to the coverlet, then crossing his arms over his chest and fixing the man with his best stern look. "Perhaps if you are well enough to make such quips in your condition, you're capable of getting up and walking home?" he asked in a faintly mocking tone that made most normal patients cringe. Lupin, however, merely lifted one side of his mouth in a half smile, not intimidated by Severus' tone. No doubt Regulus had warned him what to expect.

"Whose home - yours or mine?" Lupin parried.

Regulus stepped up hurriedly, as though anticipating an explosion of righteous indignation from Severus. "Remus, this is the doctor I told you about. Severus Snape, one of the finest diagnosticians in Britain. Severus, this is my old friend from school, Remus Lupin, pediatrician and medical mystery."

"Pleased to meet you," Lupin said, his words soft but distinct.. "I'd offer to shake hands, but I might be tempted to pull you down here with me."

Severus was a little non-plussed by Lupin's flirtatious manner. Patients simply did not flirt with him, and some could barely speak to him after he'd given them the type of set-down he'd given Lupin. Then again, Lupin was a doctor and used to dealing with children, so perhaps this was simply some bizarre misapplication of his dubious bedside manner.

"If it's not his heart, it is undoubtedly his head," Severus said, intensifying his glare another twenty percent, intent on putting Lupin in his place. "If you've not found anything physically wrong with him, Regulus, I suggest we transfer him to psychiatry."

"Trust me, they don't want him," Regulus replied, stepping to the other side of the bed and giving his friend a warning look. "Don't antagonize the snarky doctor, Remus. He's the only physician in this hospital better than me, and if he won't help you, we'll have to send you to another hospital, and they'll kill you for certain. Although how you can make quips looking like you do now, I'll never understand."

"I'll be good," Lupin promised. "I'm sorry, Dr. Snape. I'm just trying to provide a bit of levity to keep my spirits up."

"Hmpf. It's your funeral," Severus said quellingly, but his glare lessened. Regulus was correct, despite his seemingly egotistical statement, and if Severus couldn't help Lupin, then no one here could. Severus was an excellent observer, too, and as he looked at Lupin, he could see the worry lurking in Lupin's eyes despite his apparent humor. "Regulus told me that you tried oxygen at home at the onset. I want to know exactly what you felt when you realized that an attack was coming on."

Lupin was quiet for several moments, his shallow breathing sounding a bit more labored from the effort of talking. "It was like... a sense of dread," he replied at last. "I know that's hardly clinical, but that's really what it was like. One minute I was reading a magazine, the next I couldn't catch my breath, and it felt as though the walls were closing in on me. My heart rate suddenly jumped up, pounding so hard I thought it might burst. I had kept the oxygen close at hand, but even after using it for an hour, I wasn't feeling any better. By that time, it was all I could do to dial 999 and summon the ambulance."

"He was unconscious when they brought him in," Regulus chimed in. "I was called at once, standing orders, and he was put on oxygen again, as well as IV heparin."

"Right... it's not a heart attack, so treat it like one. Your logic is truly astounding." Severus' tone dripped sarcasm. 

"It couldn't hurt," Regulus said, his tone defensive. "Just because it wasn't a heart attack the previous times doesn't mean that one couldn't have been happening _this_ time, and by the time we could figure it out, it would have been too late. Better to be safe than sorry."

"Which is why you are a cardiologist, rather than something more challenging," Severus shot back. "If the problem had been internal bleeding, you would have made a fatal error. Fatal for him, at least."

"What?" Regulus looked stunned, and he looked at Lupin in wide-eyed horror. "Internal bleeding didn't even occur to me, because it doesn't fit the symptoms..."

"The symptoms you've _seen_." Severus turned his attention to Lupin. "I want to know everything you've experienced in the last week, and the week before the previous attack, and the one before that. Everything you've eaten, every pill you've taken, how long you've slept at night. Any visitors you've had, every place you've been. If you've gone to the bathroom or had sex, I want to know about it. At this stage, when all the standard diagnostic tools have failed, we turn to the non-standard, and there is no telling what effect seemingly trivial elements might have on your condition."

"I haven't had sex in the last two months," Lupin responded, the half-smile back on his lips. "Although if that's an offer, I'll gladly take you up on it as soon as I'm out of this uncomfortable bed and into one more conducive to sharing."

Severus' jaw dropped open for a moment, and then he closed it with a snap and fixed Remus with his most dreadful scowl. "The only thing you need to know about _my_ sex life, Mr. Lupin, is that it will never intersect with _yours_ in any fashion whatsoever, regardless of the type of bed involved." He raised his eyes to Regulus, not softening his expression at all. "Please tell me he's like this to everyone, and I'm not being singled out for special attention."

"Normally, he's quite personable, and he's certainly never propositioned _me_ ," Regulus replied. He shook his head and laughed, his expression one of relief that Severus hadn't stormed out and refused to deal with the case. "Watch out, Remus. Severus isn't one to give in to anyone's charms, and you're hardly at the top of your game at the moment. Save it for the nurses. I'll send you a nice male one."

"Pity," Lupin replied, but Severus noticed an odd gleam in his eyes, as though he thought Severus' words sounded like a challenge. "I suppose I'll just have to be even more charming than usual."

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. "All right, Black... you know that double mocha espresso you owe me?"

"Yes?"

"Make it a triple. Every day for the foreseeable future."

* * *

Severus rubbed at his eyes, reading over the notes detailing the information Lupin had managed to give him before the man had succumbed to fatigue and fallen into an exhausted slumber. There wasn't nearly the amount of detail Severus needed, but enough general information gave him a picture of Lupin's life, which basically consisted of his work at the hospital, visits from a few private long-term patients, and a guest lecturer appearance every two weeks for a university medical program. The man was apparently quite a homebody other than that, and the way Lupin had spoken of his home library had been with all the affection most people would a discuss a beloved pet. Boring, Severus might have said had he not met the man. 

Even ill, Severus could see that Lupin was intelligent and personable, even if his sense of humor was questionable at best. He could see what Regulus had meant about Lupin being down to earth; despite being weak, he'd not complained once about his condition or the lack of a diagnosis, nor had he been as difficult to treat as many doctors often were, thinking that they knew better than the colleagues caring for them. He had been forthright, articulate, and even somewhat amusing as he'd relayed all the information he could manage before fatigue overcame him. Severus stayed in the room, reviewing what he'd gleaned as he tried to find something which might give him an insight into what was causing Lupin's condition.

Lowering the notebook, Severus glanced over at Lupin again, wondering if he would recover this time as he apparently had on the other two occasions. There was no change for the better, although he didn't seem to have gotten any worse, either, despite Severus ordering him taken off the oxygen and the heparin. They needed to know if those treatments had actually been beneficial or if Lupin's recovery had merely been coincidental. 

"How's he doing?" Regulus asked softly, and Severus glanced up from his contemplation of the patient to find Regulus peering in the door, a large mug in his hand.

"Same," Severus replied shortly. "Apparently your friend is going to continue to be a pain in my arse for a bit longer, rather than giving me an easy diagnosis so as to dazzle you with my brilliance." He sighed dramatically. "At least if he died, we could autopsy him and get the answer that way."

Regulus stepped further into the room to take a closer look at the patient, and as he passed by, Severus plucked the mug from his hand, draining the coffee in a single long gulp. "Severus!" Regulus rolled his eyes, giving a soft chuckle as he relinquished his beverage. "How unlike you to want to take the easy way out. You know if you had figured it out quickly, you'd be complaining that there aren't any challenges anymore." 

"I do aim to please," Lupin spoke up from the bed, and both Severus and Regulus looked at him in surprise.

Severus' eyes widened as he noticed the return of color to Lupin's face. He put down the mug and stood up, crossing to the bed peering down at Remus with narrowed eyes. No longer looking like an advanced coronary patient as he had only moments before, his cheeks were flushed and the shadows under his eyes had faded until they were barely noticeable. His voice was stronger, too, and contained a huskiness that Severus thought women must adore. 

"Feeling better, I see," Severus said dryly. He glanced at his watch. "Twelve after five o'clock in the morning, about 9 hours after onset. Well, Mr. Lupin, it seems that you've decided to live again, if you are holding true to form." He smiled evilly. "Although with the tests I'm going to be running you through in the next twenty four hours, you might decide you'd have been better off dying after all."

"Welcome back - again," Regulus chimed in, offering Lupin a look of amusement. "Don't mind Severus; he's only really nasty when he's stumped."

"Then I shall endeavor not to stump him," Lupin replied, favoring Severus with a smile that could only be called sultry. The light in his odd golden eyes was heated and intense, the effect not any less for the lack of pallor. "I certainly have no desire to make him do anything but purr in approval. Preferably in my ear."

Severus felt his own smirk freeze on his lips as the impact of Lupin's gaze hit him fully. He didn't notice his patients, not like this, not _ever_. He'd had more than a few try to flirt with him over the years, of course, as all doctors did, but he'd put them off with either a scowl or a cold comment. This, however, was quite different, and he felt a tingle of awareness - or perhaps danger - run down his spine. Doctors who let themselves get involved with patients always ended up with more trouble than they bargained for.

Stepping back abruptly, Severus broke the eye contact, straightening up until he was nearly rigid and frowning so hard that his face actually hurt. "That's quite enough, Lupin. Your behavior is outrageous, and I'm tired of it, and you will cease it at once or I shall remove myself from this case. I have no idea what has given you the idea that I might be interested in men at all, but I assure you, it's not only none of your business, it's quite beside the point, because there is no way I would _ever_ be interested in you!"

With that, he whirled, his lab coat flaring out behind him, and stalked toward the door. He paused there, looking back over his shoulder at Regulus and ignoring Remus completely. "My assistants will be by later this morning to run those tests. I suggest you tell your patient to rest while he can."

Then he was gone. Regulus blinked in surprise, then turned to look at Remus. "Well. I can't say as I've ever seen him flustered like that before. You did manage to get under his skin," he murmured, shaking his head. "You might want to stop the flirting, Remus. He doesn't make idle threats, and you need him now."

"Yes, I think I do."

The words were soft, but Regulus looked at his friend sharply, the tone of them immediately setting off warning bells. "You're actually interested in him, aren't you? I mean, this isn't just your usual teasing, is it?"

"Is there a problem with that?" Remus replied, raising a brow at Regulus, his expression suddenly serious. "I wouldn't be stepping on your toes, would I?"

"Oh, no, not at all," Regulus said, shaking his head and holding up both hands in denial. "I rather like my bits as they are. I have no desire to have them handed to me on a silver platter. But it's your funeral, my friend... although I hope that isn't literally the truth. I never knew you liked to live so dangerously."

Smiling again, Remus leaned back against the pillows. "He's fascinating... there's something there that makes me want to find out what's under all that brooding intensity. He's a complicated man, I can tell. I consider it a challenge," he replied. "I happen to like a challenge."

"Climbing Mount Everest is a challenge," Regulus replied, shaking his head. "Swimming the Channel, winning a medal in the Olympics, finding a cure for cancer... those are _challenges_. Severus Snape is.... something else entirely."

"That he is." Remus chuckled. "That he most certainly is."

* * *

"You really like coffee, don't you, Dr. Snape?"

Severus grunted slightly, but he didn't look up from the sheaf of lab results he was studying. Hemoglobin normal, MRI normal, thyroid normal, everything was _too_ bloody normal, especially for a man who'd looked like he was on the verge of becoming a statistic only two days before. Lupin's case was almost as maddening as the man himself, but Severus was too stubborn to believe that there wasn't _something_ to be had out of the endless lists of numbers.

"I drink it myself from time to time, but usually only the flavored ones. I find it too bitter without lots of sugar and milk to smooth it out."

Severus deigned to lift his gaze from his papers, frowning as he saw Lupin looking at him with wide, guileless eyes. It didn't fool him for a moment, despite the fact that Lupin had apparently taken his warning to heart. The man was just too bloody _nice_ , never complaining despite the repeated needle sticks, trips to radiology, and even the prolonged cardiac stress test Severus had ordered he undergo. Now he was lying there against the pillow, his gaze like that of a puppy hopeful of being petted. If Severus were the type to think that someone in a hospital gown with tubes and wires stuck all over him could be cute, then Lupin would certainly qualify.

Fortunately, _cute_ was not a word in Severus' extensive vocabulary.

"Bland and uninteresting," Severus snapped back quellingly, leaving it to Lupin's discretion to determine if Severus was referring to the coffee or issuing a thinly veiled insult. Lupin might have stopped with the blatant flirting and propositions, but he was still _looking_ at Severus and talking to him in that husky voice. Bill Weasley, Severus' senior assistant, coughed as he went about noting the readings of Lupin's monitors, but Severus ignored him.

"Well, I prefer to save up my spiciness for something I can sink my teeth into," Remus replied, seemingly unfazed. Severus frowned, his eyes narrowing as he waited for Lupin to follow the rather leading comment with something that Severus could really berate him for, but Lupin merely smiled and continued. "I'm a big fan of Chinese food, I mean. Especially Szechuan - the spicier the better."

"Hmphf." Severus glared before looking back down at the papers again. Damn the man, it figured that Lupin would be fond of the same kind of food Severus was! Unless Lupin had been pumping Regulus for information, and his damnable friend was coughing it up just for the satisfaction of watching the veins bulge in Severus' forehead. The sooner he got rid of Lupin, the better, as far as he was concerned. 

There was silence for a moment, and Severus relaxed fractionally, hoping that perhaps Lupin had run out of conversational sallies or was at last breaking on the rock of Severus' indifference. He focused on the numbers, trying to determine what he was missing, what small detail was being overlooked that would explain Lupin's condition. Perhaps he should have Weasley do all of the tests over again, if for no other reason than to have Lupin poked with needles until he looked like a pincushion.

It couldn't last, of course. "I like Chinese food, too," Weasley chimed in, and Severus silently ground his teeth. "There's a fantastic place close by here, and we often send for take away during a late shift. When we don't do that, we go for Indian. I prefer Dhansak, but you can imagine who goes for the Phaal."

"Indeed," Lupin replied, and Severus could hear the undercurrent of amusement in his voice. "I like curry as well. And pizza - the physician's staple. With pepperoni and sausage, or ham and pineapple."

"I prefer onions and bacon," Weasley replied. "With crisps and a pint." He caught Severus' scowl and misinterpreted the reason. "Not when on duty, you know."

Severus thought he might scream from the banality, but he tried to shut it out anyway. At least Lupin wasn't flirting with him for once, which he told himself was a very good thing indeed.

"Of course! But I have to admit that chocolate is my favorite thing of all - cakes, cookies, ice cream, all of it," Lupin spoke up again, then chuckled in that low way he had, a warm, furry sound that caressed against the ears. "Tell me, do you like sweet things as much as spicy ones, Dr. Weasley?"

Severus slammed the chart shut so hard the he startled Weasley, who bumped into the IV pole by Lupin's bed, sending the bag of saline to swaying. He'd had quite enough, and it was time to get Lupin out of his hair before he went completely mad and smacked the man because he wouldn't shut up - or snogged him, as an evil little imp in his head taunted him with far too clear an image of doing exactly that. Interesting case or not, Lupin was irritating Severus far too much, and it was time to put an end to it once and for all - especially if Lupin was going to follow up that chuckle with a big-golden-eyed look at Weasley!

"As far as I can tell, _Mister_ Lupin," Severus rapped out, purposefully refusing to use Lupin's title. "There's not a damned thing wrong with you. You are _insufferably_ normal to the tenth decimal place. Since you are no longer symptomatic, I am going to write up your discharge. Go home, and I suggest that you make an appointment with a psychiatrist; since your condition doesn't seem to be physical in any fashion we can detect, I leave it to you to draw your own conclusions about what that must mean."

"But..." Bill Weasley was looking at him in as much shock as though he had suddenly sprouted another head. "Dr. Snape, we can't have looked at everything yet. What about running a series of..."

Severus cut him off with a look, one that had been known to cause nurses to shriek in fright. "I've rendered my diagnosis, _Doctor_ Weasley." He turned his icy gaze to Lupin, who, for once, was silent. "Do you have anything to add, Mr. Lupin?" he asked, his voice almost poisonously sweet. Part of him knew that he was acting oddly, even for him, and that the flare of temper he felt was out of proportion to what was happening, but he didn't care. He'd felt off balance and disturbed ever since Lupin had arrived at the hospital, and now that the man was in no danger of dying, it was best for Severus' state of mind to have him as far away as possible. Even if Severus didn't wish to acknowledge that Lupin seemed to have the power to get under his skin as very few people did.

"No, nothing." Lupin's voice was soft but flat, and the sparkle had gone from his eyes. He looked as pale as when Severus had first seen him and almost as lifeless. Severus refused to let himself feel guilty about that. Lupin was the one who had gone about disrupting Severus' routine, and he deserved to suffer for it. "I'll leave as soon as the IV is out."

Severus frowned, trying to determine if Lupin was being sarcastic, but then he straightened abruptly and told himself it didn't matter. Lupin would be leaving the hospital, and if by some chance he had another episode and came back, some other doctor could deal with him. Severus was _through_.

"Then we have nothing further to discuss." 

That was a perfect exit line, delivered with the cold disdain for which Severus was known. He should turn around and walk away, leaving Lupin and his insufferable cheerfulness and mysterious condition behind forever, just as he'd planned. Severus would never have to look at the man again, or listen to his outrageous flirting or that furry laugh. Which was just what Severus wanted.

"I appreciate all your efforts on my behalf," Lupin spoke up after a moment of silence. "Thank you, Severus."

It wasn't the expression of gratitude or the quiet sincerity of Lupin's tone that made Severus turn and stalk out. It wasn't even Weasley's look of censure, or the fact that Severus knew that Regulus was going to scold him, perhaps even get Malfoy, the hospital director, on him for questionable ethics. 

No, it was the sound of his name on Lupin's lips and the sudden, sharp, inescapable knowledge that the first time he heard it would also be the last.

* * *

"...and after two courses of antibiotics, the fever seems to have finally broken. I think another day of observation, and we can send her home. What do you think, Dr. Snape?"

Severus looked up from the chart he was studying and scowled. "I think you're being hasty. The fever breaking is probably a good sign, but I wouldn't say she's out of the woods yet. Overlooking something critical just because you think a normal temperature means a cure is foolish, but it's your malpractice suit, so do whatever you think is best." His tone was only mildly sarcastic, which these days was as close as he got to being in a good mood.

Fleur Delacour, newly hired and eager to please her boss, looked crestfallen, but she nodded and made a note on her PDA, a small frown line marring her forehead. She was a beautiful woman, although that had nothing to do with why Severus had hired her; if she hadn't been at the top of her class and come with the personal recommendation of no less than the head of the University of Paris' medical school, Severus wouldn't have looked at her twice. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and a willowy figure didn't appeal to him at all, although Severus adamantly refused to think of what _would_ appeal to him.

Such was not the case with his senior assistant, however, and Severus' scowl intensified as he noticed that Weasley was wearing _that_ expression again. "Dr. Weasley! If you can look more like a physician and less like a love struck calf, I would thank you to bring me the lab reports on Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom. There has to be something to indicate why they both entered a persistent vegetative state at the same time."

Bill Weasley jumped a bit and blushed, which made his red hair look the color of carrots. Severus clenched his jaw, not caring that he'd embarrassed the man - not when he saw the slow smile on Fleur's delicate lips. No doubt there was an incipient romance about to occur right under his nose, and for some reason, it irritated him to no end. There was nothing he could do about it, of course, unless it interfered with their performance of their duties, but Weasley's mooning about made Severus want to scream. He didn't envy them being happy, he told himself harshly. It was just that soppy displays sickened him.

"Yes, of course," Weasley stammered, then turned and headed for the door, no doubt the rigid set of his spine due to the weight of Severus' glare.

"If that is all, sir, I'll go run another panel on Mrs. Figg," Fleur said in her softly accented English. Severus merely nodded and returned his gaze to the chart in front of him, listening as her footsteps and the soft click of the door told him he was alone once more.

Life had gone on in the last three and a half weeks, although Severus most definitely was _not_ keeping track of how long it had been since Lupin had left the hospital. Nor was he sparing a moment's thought to wonder if Lupin would have another relapse and end up back in the hospital within the next few days. Really, he'd not wasted a moment thinking about the man at all; he had too much going on, what with the bizarre and interesting cases which had cropped up in the last few weeks, not to mention breaking in a new assistant while trying to keep his old one from becoming as much of a drooling waste of space as the Longbottom couple. 

He also was _not_ in a worse mood these days, no matter what Regulus had to say on the matter. After all, he'd not screamed a denial when Regulus had questioned him as to whether he'd lost his mind when he'd discharged Lupin from the hospital, now had he? And if he simply didn't wish to talk much these days, nor did he have anything but criticism for everything around him, well, that was merely because work was stressful and annoying and he had very little to be cheerful about. It wasn't as though he were the hail-fellow-well-met type to begin with, and why in the bloody hell did everyone seem to find his mood such a topic for conversation anyway? It was none of their damned business, and he wished them all to perdition for their curiosity. Perhaps his mood would improve if people weren't always whispering behind his back about how bad it was, as though he had no ears and couldn't hear them.

The door opened again, and Severus looked up, wondering how Weasley could possibly be back so soon; he'd thought to have at least a few minutes of peace and quiet to himself. But it wasn't Weasley who entered his office with an oily smile, but rather Lucius Malfoy, director of the hospital, major pain in the arse, and, in Severus' opinion, one of the most loathsome snake-oil salesmen he'd ever had the misfortune of meeting. Well, next to the loathsome bastard who'd nearly ruined Severus' life, but that was an unpleasantness he didn't wish to dwell on at the moment.

"Ah, Severus, I'm glad to find you in," Lucius said as he walked toward Severus' desk. As always, Malfoy was attired in a sharp suit that probably cost enough to keep Severus in coffee for the next ten years, and his long, silvery blond hair was tied back in a low ponytail. Lucius had pretensions to gentry that Severus found alternatively sickening and amusing, and Severus often thought all he lacked was a walking stick to look like some stuffy Lordship. Yet for all his airs, he was the only person who had been willing to hire Severus after the debacle his life had become, and he tried not to think _too_ much about the fact that it probably had as much to do with Lucius being married to Regulus' favorite cousin as it did with Severus' own talents.

"Where else would I be?" Severus shot back. Yes, Malfoy was his employer, but Severus wasn't about to do any simpering or fawning over him for it; Malfoy was competent at his job, nothing more. "What do you want, Malfoy? I'm very busy, as you can see."

"Yes, yes, and I don't want to pull you from your work," Malfoy answered, stopping in front of Severus and peering down at him with a false benignity that didn't fool Severus for an instant. Lucius rarely left his office, in fact, preferring to leave the day to day management of the medical staff to his assistant, while he himself undertook the more "difficult" work of fund-raising and liaising with politicians and pharmaceutical representatives in order to "further the interests" of the hospital. "But I wanted to make certain you had gotten my memo about using that new drug for pain management. I think in the interests of research, it makes sense to try it on some of your cases where traditional methods might be contraindicated."

"Indeed." Severus' tone was neutral, and he sat back in his chair, refusing to be intimidated by Malfoy looming over him. The subtle coercion wasn't lost on him at all, but he wasn't about to use a drug just because Lucius was taking a kick-back from some hustling drug-peddler. That was a situation he had firm feelings about, even though _technically_ , receiving 'research funds' to try medications wasn't ethically prohibited; in Severus' opinion, it ought to be. "Yes, I received your memo, and I promise that I will give the drug all due consideration in the cases where it might be appropriate for use."

Lucius was familiar enough with weasel-wording to recognize when it was being done to him, and he frowned slightly before assuming his "stern" expression. "Consideration isn't quite enough, I'm afraid," he said, his voice losing some of its lazy drawl and taking on a sharper edge. "I would like for you to try it out at once. I don't know why you are so stubborn about these things, you know. It's perfectly safe, and it passed all the clinical trials for certification. You can do a real service here in helping to prove its effectiveness..."

"I have no interest in proving the effectiveness of some company's new product," Severus replied firmly. "If I may remind you, Lucius, you don't have a medical degree. I can assure you that if I thought a patient's life depended on a new treatment, I'd be the first to use it, but this is a pain medication. There are enough good and effective ones at hand that have well-known properties and interactions that I don't have any desire to try out a new one on patients whose conditions are non-standard or not fully diagnosed. There are simply too many variables involved in diagnostics to risk introducing a complete unknown into the equation. While pain might make someone _wish_ they were dead, it's not going to kill them not to use this drug, and it cannot possibly have been tested under all the conditions we encounter here on a daily basis."

"Which is precisely what makes your department such a good vehicle for this," Lucius insisted, glaring at Severus.

"Which is precisely what makes my department completely unsuitable!" Severus snapped back. He rose from his seat, staring Lucius down across the width of his desk. There was no doubt in his mind that he was correct in this case, and also no doubt that if he wished to take it up with the board of directors, he would probably get their backing. After all, he knew all too well how little hospital boards cared for unnecessary risks when it came to patients' lives and how expendable they considered people who ended up in the middle of medical inquiries. Lucius wanted Severus' cooperation to line his own pockets, Severus was certain of it, but he was also quite sure that Lucius couldn't compel him, not in this case. It was a risk, of course, and Lucius might try to make his life miserable over it, perhaps even threaten him with dismissal, but there were certain things that Severus would go to the wall over, and this was one of them. Experience was a harsh but extremely effective teacher.

"May I remind you that _I_ administer your department's budget?" Lucius asked, his tone one of soft menace, grey eyes cold as he tried to stare Severus down. "It would be unfortunate if your lack of cooperation ended up costing you certain resources."

"It would be unfortunate if those lack of resources cost people's lives, and the hospital board had to investigate," Severus replied, his tone becoming almost sickeningly sweet. "Go on, do what you have to do, _Mr._ Malfoy, but I think you'll find that if push came to shove, there's nothing _I_ have to hide from _your_ bosses. Can you say the same?"

Lucius' look became thunderous, and for a moment, Severus thought the man might actually attack him, but then Lucius stepped back and offered Severus a smile which never reached his eyes. "Yes, well. I see it might take something more to convince you to cooperate, _Dr._ Snape. But have it your way. For the moment. I expect your department's budgetary report on my desk by close of business today."

With that, Lucius whirled and departed, stalking out in a fashion that Severus realized was a bad parody of his own way of stomping off when he was angry. It amused him in a rather ironic way, and he dropped back into his chair, relieved the encounter was over. It was far too reminiscent of another showdowns he'd had in the distant past, and he was quite well aware that just because someone had moral superiority, it didn't always prevent them from being punished. He should be angry, he knew, but he felt too cold inside, too close to remembering things he'd thought well behind him, and that extinguished what once would have been a blaze of righteous indignation.

He reached out for his coffee, but misjudged the distance and knocked it over on his desk, sending a river of hot liquid over all the papers on his desk. Jumping to his feet once more with a growl of annoyance, he looked around for something to mop up with, but there was nothing suitable at hand. 

"Bloody fucking hell!" he snarled, cursing his own idiocy. He refused to acknowledge that it might have been more caused by his hand trembling than a sudden attack of clumsiness, but he welcomed the familiar return of temper. It was far preferable to the horrid numbness the encounter with Malfoy had given him.

The coffee had soaked all the reports and had also splashed on the sleeve of his white coat. There was no help for it but to call in Housekeeping to clean up the mess, and so Severus reached for the phone. Mrs. Hooch's familiar voice answered, and she tutted at him, making comments about distracted physicians and their inability to feed themselves without making a complete hash of things and leaving it for someone else to clean up.

"Yes, well, that is your job," Severus snapped, then slammed down the receiver, muttering under his breath about the cheekiness of staff. If they thought _their_ lives were hard, he'd happily trade with them for a day; he'd no doubt that Mrs. Hooch would run away screaming in five seconds if she had to deal with the constant messes _he_ had to clean up, especially since not all of them were merely physical.

He had no desire to wait around and listen to more scolding, so he stripped off his soiled white coat, dumping it unceremoniously in his chair before stalking out of the room. That had been quite enough for one day, really, and if Malfoy gave him grief over not turning in a budget report, he'd offer to produce one and then cram it up Malfoy's lower orifice - without lubrication. At the moment, he wanted a stiff drink and someone to vent to, and so he made his way toward Regulus' office, intent on making his friend buy him an Irish coffee and listen to the horrors that Severus had to endure just to do his job. Regulus had been too busy to listen to Severus lately, and it was high time that he did his duty as a friend and let Severus unload his problems on him.

There were soft voices coming from within Regulus' office, but Severus only knocked perfunctorily before opening the door and stepping inside. He stopped then, watching with a raised brow as Regulus hurriedly stepped back from the tall, athletic, dark-skinned man whom Severus immediately recognized as Kingsley Shacklebolt, chief of the hospital's accounting department. Severus had had to deal with the man a few times when there were questions about just how many MRIs a patient might possibly need, and whether or not Severus' department should have to pay the extra laboratory fees required for having an additional technician on call twenty-four hours a day for emergencies. The man was not without a certain charm, perhaps, but usually he was too busy being annoyingly pedantic over a few pence for Severus to be able to appreciate it.

Regulus, however, seemed more than capable in that department, if the flush on his cheeks and the suspiciously rosy appearance of his lips was any indication.

"Am I interrupting anything?" Severus asked mockingly, crossing his arms over his chest and fixing the two of them with a stern glance with an inner sense of glee. It was good to have something to hold over Regulus' head for a change, and Severus didn't intend to waste it.

"No, nothing," Shacklebolt said, and Severus had to admire his aplomb. "We were finished, anyway. Thank you for your input, Dr. Black. I'll look over these reports and get back to you if I have any questions."

"Yes, thank you," Regulus said, not nearly as smoothly as he normally would. The fact that he wouldn't meet Severus' eyes was very telling as well, and so Severus merely stood to one side, waiting while Shacklebolt collected a stack of papers from Regulus' desk and departed. 

Severus made no comment until he and Regulus were alone, and at that point, he moved to settle down on the chair in front of Regulus' desk, lounging indolently while Regulus took his own seat, back as rigid as though he were still in primary school and expecting a teacher to smack him with a ruler. Raising a brow, Severus snorted in amusement. "So, how long has _this_ been going on? Don't tell me you were suddenly taken with a fit of passion as the man audited your ledgers."

"Of course not! We weren't doing anything," Regulus murmured, pretending a sudden interest in a piece of paper on his blotter. "You do get the oddest notions, Severus. What did you want, anyway?"

"I was going to lure you out to make you listen to me for a while, but I find this more diverting," Severus drawled. "And don't give me some story about 'not doing anything', you big prat. I wasn't born yesterday, and for all that _he_ kept his cool, you're blushing like a schoolgirl caught snogging her teacher. But for heaven's sake, Regulus, an _accountant_? I always figured you going for an Olympic swimmer, or a race car driver, or perhaps some weird Indian guru you'd met in a club. Shacklebolt is so dry! What do you do to turn him on? Recite hospital profit figures? Whisper sweet spreadsheets in his ear?"

"Severus!" Regulus looked up finally, his expression a weird mixture of guilt and amusement. "Damn it, don't make it sound like that, would you? I _knew_ you'd be like this..."

"You what?" Severus blinked. "You mean this really _isn't_ a one time thing?"

Regulus flushed again. "No, not really." He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "We've been... talking. For a couple of weeks. It just sort of, um, happened?"

"Weeks?" Frowning, Severus inclined his head. "Let me guess. The reason you've been _busy_ lately wasn't really work, it was him?"

"Well..." Regulus seemed oddly reticent to admit it, which surprised Severus. He had long been aware of Regulus' flexible preference in sexual partners, just as Regulus had been aware of Severus' preference for other men; not that Severus had had the time or inclination to indulge in a very long time. But Regulus was another matter entirely, being far more outgoing and social than Severus was, and Severus had heard his share of his friend's carnal adventures over the years. That thought somehow brought up the image of Lupin's face, but Severus quashed it at once, as he had every time it had occurred in the last few weeks; which, unfortunately, had been with maddening frequency.

"Oh, just spit it out!" Severus snapped, his amusement fading, although he wasn't certain why. "You of all people shouldn't be hesitant to admit something to me!"

"I think I'm in love."

Regulus blurted the words, then went silent, looking at Severus with an uncharacteristic hesitance, while Severus stared back at him, too shocked for a moment to speak.

Regulus? In _love_?

It wasn't as though Severus didn't believe his friend capable of the emotion; it was just that Regulus had always seemed such a playboy type, unwilling to settle on a single long term partner while there were, as Regulus so blithely put it, "so many genes in the pool." In fact, Severus seemed to recall more than one lover being dumped for getting too possessive, since Regulus definitely liked his freedom. The one constant in his life in the last several years had been Severus, and frankly Regulus had been the one dependable person in Severus' life as well. With a start, Severus realized the churning feeling in his stomach was jealousy.

Not of someone else becoming important in Regulus' life; he had no romantic interest in his friend and never had. Nor had Severus ever thought about settling down himself, since having little time to think about relationships or even sex precluded any attachment, even had he been so inclined. Which he wasn't, he told himself sternly. He simply wasn't cut out for the same soppy nonsense everyone else seemed to be searching for so desperately. Up until now, he would have said Regulus shared his sentiments, but it was obvious from the expression on Regulus' face - that same moon calf look Weasley had, come to think of it - that Severus was now quite alone in his desire to retain his uncomplicated, relationship-free existence.

"Well." It was all Severus could think of to say, given the disarray of his emotions. Part of him wanted to snap at Regulus for being a fool, that doctors made notoriously bad partners because of the hours they worked and the commitment involved in their work, but it didn't seem worth the effort. He could try to burst Regulus' little bubble, but why should he bother? He would only alienate the one person who had stood by him.

Suddenly the room seemed too close and stuffy, and he stood up abruptly. "I hope you'll be very happy," he managed to get out, even though the words sounded stilted to his own ears. 

"Severus, please," Regulus said, standing up as well. "I'm out of my depth here. I hope you don't mind..."

"Of course not." The words were curt, but Severus couldn't help it. "Look, I just have things to do, all right? I was planning to head out of town for the weekend anyway. It's been too long since I checked up on my mother's house, and you know how empty places attract all the wrong attention. I just wanted to tell you I'd be away."

Every word was a complete and utter fabrication and it contradicted what Severus had said earlier, but if Regulus realized it, he didn't give any sign. "I see," he replied slowly. "Did you need me to help cover any of your patients while you're gone?"

"I think Weasley can handle the current ones, if he can keep his eyes and his tongue in his head long enough to actually use them for their intended purposes," Severus replied waspishly. He couldn't say anything about Regulus' relationship, but Weasley's was a fair target upon which to release his pent up annoyance. "I'll have my cell phone if I'm needed, and I'll be back by Monday morning." 

Regulus was quiet as Severus made his way to the door, but he spoke up just as Severus' hand touched the knob. "Severus? This doesn't change anything between us, you know. You're still my closest friend, and I hope you'll like Kingsley. He's a good sort and a lot more interesting than you think."

Severus didn't turn around. "What I think is hardly important at the moment."

"It is to me," Regulus said softly. "Can we talk when you get back? Please?"

"Of course," Severus replied. He looked over his shoulder, surprised to see that Regulus looked concerned. Not that it mattered, really; if he were concerned about Severus' feelings, the sentiment was entirely misplaced. He was _fine_. "I'll see you Monday."

With that, he left, striding quickly down the hallway toward the car park, disdaining his coat even though he knew the late fall wind would be cutting. He wouldn't go back to his office, because he didn't care to run into Weasley and have to look at him. What he needed most at the moment was to be alone, and his unthinking lie provided him the perfect excuse. He'd go back to his mother's house, where no one would bother him and he wouldn't be surrounded by lovestruck idiots. It was a dismal old place, and he ought to get rid of it, but at the moment, it offered the haven he needed. Not that he was running away. Severus Snape _never_ ran away from anything. 

There was no shame, however, in taking a strategic time out, and no one, not even Severus himself, ever had to admit there wasn't really any difference.


	2. Chapter 2

Severus hadn't been back in his office for ten minutes before he knew something was wrong.

The time away had been just what he'd needed to regain his perspective, the act of boxing up the final remnants of her life - and his own childhood - making him remember that he was a man now, in control of himself and his circumstances, no longer a little boy at the mercy of a father who hadn't loved or understood him and a mother who had been powerless to help him. He was most definitely _not_ envious of Regulus' new-found relationship; if his friend wanted to settle down and give up his freedom for the shackles of questionable domestic bliss, then it was his decision, and Severus would just resign himself to being there to pick up the pieces when the stresses of hospital life inevitably caused the whole thing to crash and burn. In Weasley's case, Severus decided not to mention it or give it any notice unless either of them allowed their work to suffer. It was just another burden he'd have to bear for the sake of running his department, no more important than the cheeky cleaning staff or Lucius' posturing.

Thus restored to his typical sardonic detachment, he spent some time sorting through the last of his mother's things and packing most of them up for donation to the local second-hand shop. It was a chore he'd put off since her death, an event which had preceded the incident at his previous place of employment and his abrupt move to London. Given the chaos of his professional career, going through the remnants of his mother's relatively short, unhappy life seemed like too much to bear at the time, and afterward, it had all been too distant to really worry about. They'd not been close after he'd gone to university, and it had been perhaps too easy to put it off indefinitely, so he'd sat in the cold house, only the sighing of the wind and the rattling of the bare tree branches against the window for company, and finally done what it had taken him far too long to get around to.

It hadn't been easy, but Severus had disdained any sentimentality, refusing to be moved by what rubbish his mother had saved as treasures - his old teddy bear, worn and missing an eye; his school reports, which said that he was a good student, quiet and focused, but prone to sullenness. A few locks of his hair from babyhood, soft black and curling in the yellowed envelopes where she'd placed them, labeled as "Severus, six months" or "First grown up haircut", and a ribbon he'd gotten for academics back when he took his A levels. No one would want any of that stuff, and so Severus put it all in the rubbish bin, ignoring any pang he felt as he did so. The old Christmas ornaments, cheap and shabby as they were, he put in a different box to be given to charity. They held no happy memories for him, but maybe they could for someone else.

Items sorted and house finally listed with an agent - for rent or preferably sale, and the sooner the better - Severus returned to London, stepping into his office at half past eight and immediately noting that the coffee spill he'd left on Friday had been cleaned up and the brown-stained papers stacked in as neat a pile as possible given their wrinkled appearance. At least the opinionated Mrs. Hooch had done her job, so perhaps things would get back to some degree of normal.

Then Bill Weasley ran in, and Severus could tell from the look on his face that any return to normal was probably going to be a long time in coming.

His assistant was so pale that Severus thought he could count every freckle that stood out on his skin, and his long red hair was disheveled rather than tidy in its usual ponytail. Weasley also wouldn't meet his eyes, and he looked as though he were going to meet his executioner rather than report to his superior.

"What is it, then?" Severus snapped, eyes narrowed as he noticed that sweat stood out in small beads on Weasley's forehead. "Is it the Longbottoms? From the look on your face, either someone has died or is about to."

"It's Dr. Lupin," Bill replied. "He came in again very late last night. Dr. Black called me in to take a look at him, and he seemed to be displaying the same symptoms as before. I ran another panel, and it seemed as though he was suffering from an infection in the lungs, although I couldn't identify a specific vector. But it would fit the symptoms he'd had: the cyanosis, the difficulty breathing, all of it. Since he is allergic to penicillin and its variants, and we weren't certain if it was viral or bacterial, I decided to use the treatment you'd used on the woman last year with the pneumonia that defied all the antibiotics, and I tried the collodial silver nebulizer..."

Severus had gone completely still from the moment Weasley mentioned Lupin's name. He'd deliberately not thought about Lupin all weekend, not allowing himself to dwell on the fact that it was about time for a flare up of Lupin's condition, if it still existed or indeed ever had existed outside of the man's head. Lupin simply didn't matter in his life, no more than Weasley or Regulus' romances did. Less, in fact, since he had no need to see the man ever again. But he was back, and Severus felt something inside him seize up as he tried to put together what Weasley was telling him with his past knowledge of Lupin's symptoms. But for some reason, he must be uncommonly slow in the process, because he could only manage a numb response. "What happened?"

"He went into anaphylactic shock almost immediately," Weasley said. "Please, Dr. Snape, I know you don't like him, but this is beyond me now. We gave him antihistamines, but he went into respiratory and cardiac arrest, and now he's lapsed into a coma..."

Severus was up from his chair before he even knew he planned to move, brushing past Weasley and heading out the door. "Where is he?" he snapped, not slowing down as he heard Weasley hurrying up behind him. 

"CIC, again," Weasley said, and Severus immediately set off down the corridor leading toward Regulus' domain. 

"When did he go into arrest?" he continued his questioning of his assistant, intent on getting as much information as he could before he reached Lupin's room. "What dosage of silver and how much antihistamine?"

"About an hour ago," Bill replied, but before they could answer the other questions, they had arrived at Cardiac Intensive Care, and Severus immediately burst through the door and made a bee-line for where Regulus stood, assuming that the patient he was hovering over was Lupin. He was correct, of course, and he plucked the chart out of his friend's hand without ceremony, scanning it before looking at Regulus.

"Prognosis?" he asked, priding himself on the steadiness of his voice.

"Not good." Regulus' voice was flat, and Severus could see the lines of strain beside his mouth. "There's fluid in his lungs, and the antihistamines don't seem to be working - or they're working so slowly that we can't really tell the difference. He's on a ventilator, but there's fluid building up in his lungs."

"What about his heart?" Severus asked gruffly.

"I think we caught it quickly enough that there will be no lasting damage," Regulus replied. "But if he can't breathe..."

Severus nodded once, tersely, then finally allowed his gaze to move to the man on the bed. 

Lupin looked much as he had the first time Severus had seen him, yet somehow worse. He was paler, and rather than merely being on oxygen, it was obvious that the machines he was hooked up to were breathing for him. There was also a terrible, liquid sound to the respirations, as though Lupin were trying to breathe through an inch of water and doing so without much success. His lips and the tips of his fingers were blue-tinged, and his cheeks were sunken to the point that his face resembled a skull.

A tide of rage surged up in Severus, so powerful and hot that he actually trembled from the force of it. Lupin had come here expecting to be cured, not to be killed by some misguided treatment administered by someone in Severus' department. That there was a component of guilt in his fury Severus ignored completely, as he did the fact that an allergy to the type of treatment administered was extremely rare. All that mattered was that Lupin was most likely going to die, and if that happened, Severus was going to have to live with it for the rest of his life.

"WEASLEY!" Severus' voice seemed to shake the walls of the room. He barely noticed that Regulus and the nurses all gasped in surprise, his gaze completely focused on his assistant. 

"Dr. Snape?" Bill's voice was hushed, and he was so pale that Severus wondered if he might actually faint. Not that Severus cared; there were some lessons a doctor simply had to learn the hard way.

"Are you a religious man, Dr. Weasley?" he asked, his voice seeming soft in the aftermath of his initial outburst. 

Bill swallowed hard. "I... not so much, Dr. Snape," he stammered, his eyes wide with fright. "Wh-Why?"

"Because you'd better pray I'm able to save him, or I'll see to it that you never practice any medicine beyond taking an aspirin ever again," Severus replied conversationally. "Now go prep a tray so I can perform a thoracentesis to remove the fluid, and order up doxycycline for a pleurodesis. If that works, we will hopefully have enough of the silver removed in the fluid that the antihistamines can do their job."

"And if it doesn't work?" Regulus asked quietly.

Severus turned to look at Lupin again, refusing to admit defeat to the spectre of death that seemed to be hovering over the man's still form. "Then we'll try steroids. And if that doesn't work, I'll think of something else." _I won't give up... and I won't fail. Not this time. Not ever again._

There were hands on his shoulders, and Severus stiffened in surprise until he heard Regulus' voice near his ear. Of course no one else would have dared touch him, but Regulus of all people would realize exactly what Severus was going through at this moment.

"You will think of something else, if you have to," Regulus said, his voice pitched for Severus' ears alone. "You're in control this time, and no one can take that away from you, right?"

"He can," Severus muttered, tilting his head at Lupin. "But I'll fight him every step of the way."

"That's the spirit," Regulus said, and then, surprisingly, he chuckled and pushed Severus gently toward the bed. "Go on then, Doctor. You've a patient to save."

Severus nodded. _And I will save you,_ he vowed grimly to Remus' still form. _Whether you like it or not._

* * *

The tempo of the heart monitor sped up sightly, and Severus lifted his head to glance toward the bed. Lupin hadn't stirred in the hours since Severus had done the procedure to drain the fluid from his lungs, but neither had the awful, liquid sound returned. It seemed that the treatment had worked, but Severus had decided to stay close by, reading the reports on the other patients in his department and only leaving Lupin's bedside when absolutely necessary. Now he set aside the folder he'd been reading, rising to his feet and crossing to Lupin's bedside to look down at his patient. 

A tiny crease marred the pale skin between Lupin's brows, and Severus felt a leap of hope. He reached out to take Remus' wrist, automatically feeling for a pulse. It was there, stronger beneath Severus' fingers, and as Severus stood silently willing Lupin to wake up, golden eyes opened at last and gazed up at Severus with drowsy confusion. 

"Why are you here?" he asked, voice raspy and rough from the nasal tube down his throat. "You told me it was all in my head."

Severus didn't have a response for that; he was too busy feeling weak-kneed with relief. It _had_ worked, and Severus felt the surge of victory he always did when he snatched someone back from the clutches of death. They weren't out of the woods quite yet, he knew, but he'd done it.

"I'm cleaning up someone else's messes, as usual," he managed to reply, giving a careless shrug. "Whatever I may think about your head, it's hard to argue with a severe allergic reaction to silver." Frowning, Severus looked at Lupin intently. "Why the bloody hell didn't you tell Weasley you were allergic before the treatment?"

"Didn't know," Lupin said, shaking his head minutely. "Don't wear jewelry, never noticed."

Severus rolled his eyes. "It figures that Weasley would try the treatment on the one man who doesn't realize he has a rare allergy." He scowled fiercely. "You're damned lucky to be alive, you know."

Lupin didn't speak; he merely looked at Severus, his gaze dark and containing a wariness Severus hadn't seen before. Severus gazed back at him, feeling oddly uncomfortable. He wasn't used to feeling regret for things he had said or done, and only on very rare occasions did an apology ever cross his lips. As it was, he felt torn, not wanting to show weakness and yet knowing that it wasn't entirely Weasley's fault that Lupin had nearly died. Severus had allowed personal feelings to interfere with his professional judgment, and as a result, a life had been endangered.

He looked at Lupin, seeing the ravages of his ordeal written in the lines beside his mouth and the damp pallor of his cheeks. Severus was no stranger to illness and death, but for once, it actually touched him, the knowledge that if Lupin were to die, it would be more than the loss of a anonymous person whose life didn't touch his more than fleetingly. If he were being perfectly honest, it was more than because he was merely Regulus' friend, as well. Somehow, entirely against his will, Lupin had touched a part of Severus that no patient had before, and that was probably the most disturbing thing of all.

He wasn't quite certain how long they simply stared at each other, but after some time, Severus was the one to finally drop his gaze. "Yes, you're lucky to be alive," he said gruffly, turning to look at the display of Remus' vitals on the screen next to the bed. "As it is... I regret anything I said which may have contributed to this outcome. I may have been hasty in my opinion concerning your condition."

There was silence for another long moment, while Severus waited with uncharacteristic pensiveness to see how Lupin would respond. 

"Yes, you were," Lupin said in a husky tone. "But I think I'll forgive you anyway. If you'll do one thing."

Severus turned sharply to stare at Lupin, surprised to see Lupin's lips quirked up in something that was almost a smile. "What's that?" he asked, unable to keep a small amount of suspicion from entering his tone. He wasn't the trusting sort, and open ended promises were just not something he could give.

Lupin's eyes seemed to regain a bit of their usual sparkle. "You'll let me buy you a cup of coffee after I'm out of this bed."

The unexpected request startled Severus, and he peered at Lupin with narrowed eyes. Why was it that this man had the ability to keep him so off balance, making him question his own decisions and go against his normal principles? Severus had tried to push him away and out of his life, but it seemed that circumstances weren't going to allow it. Remus Lupin needed help, and Severus had promised to give it, even if that promise had only been to himself. There was no getting rid of the man at this point, and so Severus might as well bow to the inevitable in such a way as to save as much face as possible.

"Very well, if you insist," he replied, with the air of one conferring a great favor at considerable personal cost. "If it will speed your recovery to spend your money on a pumpkin spice mocha, then far be it from me to deny you." He paused, crossing his arms over his chest. "But I want a double shot of espresso in it."

"I think I can manage that," Lupin murmured. He closed his eyes, and Severus went still, suddenly concerned that something else had gone wrong. But then Remus' eyes opened again, and he favored Severus with a smile that held a trace of the playful sultriness Severus had seen before. "I'll hold you to that. Don't think I'll forget." Then he seemed to drift off into a normal doze, the steady beeping of the cardiograph reassuring Severus that all was well.

"I don't imagine you will," Severus said, his voice low. _And oddly enough, I don't think I want you to._

* * *

As he had in previous months, Lupin seemed to recover dramatically after a few hours, although this time, it was a bit more difficult to tell the exact time when the change took place, no doubt due to the lingering effects of the complications he'd suffered. Of course, he wasn't able to get up and leave as he had been before, although within twenty-four hours, he was moved from CIC into a private room. 

With the return of his health, so did Lupin's normal flirtatious sense of humor seem to follow, although it didn't bother Severus the way it had previously. Or not _quite_ as much, at least.

Two days after Lupin's brush with death, Severus summoned Regulus, Weasley, and Fleur Delacour to Remus' room. "I want to try something," he informed them all without preliminaries. "Since we haven't found any corollaries with environmental circumstances that might be causing the repeated monthly illness, I think Lupin should stay here in the hospital under close observation for the next four weeks. We'll monitor everything he eats and drinks, how long he sleeps, any exercise, and hourly readings of temperature, heart rate, blood pressure. That way, we can either rule out any outside factors or determine that it really is something in his home or work environment causing the problems."

"Wait... four _weeks_?" Lupin piped up from the bed. "I can't take four weeks off to lie about! My work, my patients - Christmas is coming, and this is a busy time of year. There are always more illness and injuries..."

Severus planted his hands on his hips, giving Lupin a sardonic look. "So you'd rather spend several days every month for the foreseeable future in the emergency ward on the off chance that one of these days, the apparent heart attack might be a real one? Or take the risk of the attacks becoming more frequent? What would happen if you were in the middle of treating a patient and this happened to you? Would you rather endanger the lives of one of those children you profess to care so much about, rather than take the time necessary to get proper treatment for yourself? Tell me, Dr. Lupin, what would you advise one of _your_ patients to do?"

Lupin flushed, and Regulus laughed. "He's got you there, Remus. Hoist by your own petard, I'd say."

"Yes, well," Lupin muttered, looking at Severus with a bit of exasperation, obviously not pleased with the logic, but unable to refute it. He glanced about at the others, seeing the silent agreement on the faces of Severus' assistants. "It seems I'm outnumbered."

"Yes, you are," Severus replied, allowing himself a smug smirk. "This is what I want to do. Continuous heart and respiration monitoring, hourly blood pressure, and a hypoallergenic diet. We'll do daily blood panels as well, thyroid, sed rate, and glucose, and schedule MRIs as needed. I also want to do a brain scan, just to make certain that we aren't dealing with any tumors or other neurological abnormalities. We'll also order any other tests needed if anything unusual crops up."

"I'm going to look like a bloody pincushion," Lupin sighed, looking more like a man set up for a long siege than one whose life was being saved. 

"We will give you a shunt," Fleur chimed in soothingly. "No pincushions, you'll see. I am very good with a needle."

"That will work," Severus said, then rolled his eyes. "Weasley, put your eyes back in your head and get started on those lab orders! You too, Delacour. Out! I don't pay the two of you to stand around and stare at each other!"

Weasley and Fleur made hurried departures, and Severus shook his head. "So hard to get good help these days," he said in a tone of tried patience. Then he looked at Regulus. "Well, how are you going to make yourself useful in this case, Black? You're hardly dumping the whole thing on me and running off after your slide rule wielding paramour."

"Me?" Regulus blinked and held up both hands. "You mean _work_? That's why I became a cardiologist, remember? So that I could lounge around looking gorgeous and use my title to pick up dates in the clubs."

Lupin chuckled. "This is true. But now that you've gone all domestic, you'll have to find something else to take up your time."

"Damn," Regulus replied with mock chagrin. "If I'd known that being in a steady relationship would have so many drawbacks, I might have decided not to do it."

"I still haven't figured out why you did it in the first place," Severus shot back. "I'm sure that your conversations must be scintillating. Double entry bookkeeping and tax codes are utterly fascinating."

"I don't think Regulus is with him for his ability to wax lyrical on accountancy," Lupin said, his tone becoming wicked. "I'm sure there are vastly more entertaining things Kingsley can do with his mouth than _talk_."

Severus wasn't certain whether he was more amused by Lupin's words - which didn't seem to rattle him as much when they were directed at someone else - or by the effect they had on Regulus. The normally unflappable Dr. Black had turned a rather interesting shade of crimson, and he seemed to be having a bit of difficulty breathing himself. 

"Remus!" he managed to get out at last. "I don't know now whether I should help out with your case or quietly convince Severus to let you expire after all!"

"You'd miss me," Lupin said, batting his eyes at Regulus playfully. "Besides, you know it's true. With that body, who cares if he's even able to string two words together?"

"If he did, it would probably be 'decimal' and 'point'," Severus chimed in with a disdainful snort.

"That's it!" Regulus said, shaking his head and backing toward the hallway. "One of you is bad enough. The two of you in concert are absolutely unbearable! I think I'll go back to my office and try to regain my dignity now, or what's left of it."

"I bet Kingsley would help you find your 'dignity'," Lupin chuckled, but Regulus wasn't waiting around to hear any more, merely waving a hand as he let the door close behind him. Lupin turned to Severus, amusement shining in his eyes, and he looked healthier and happier than Severus had ever seen him. "Well, that may be the first time I've ever gotten the last word on him. Nice work, Dr. Snape. I think Regulus was right: we work well together."

"Just see to it that you hold to your part of the _real_ assignment and let us discover what's been causing your problems." Severus sniffed haughtily, trying to ignore the warm feeling Remus' words gave him. "Everything else is irrelevant."

With that, he turned toward the door as well, Lupin's voice following after him.

"I'll do anything you want, Severus... all you have to do is ask."

* * *

In slightly over two weeks, Lupin had had his blood pressure taken three hundred fifty times. He'd also given approximately fifty vials of blood, been subjected to three MRIs, and endured continuous monitoring of his vitals. Every input and output had been regulated, measured, weighed and tested, so that no part of his biological processes held any mystery. It was fortunate that all the results were able to be stored electronically, or else the chart would have outweighed the patient.

Unfortunately, none of it showed that Remus Lupin was anything other than a perfectly normal, healthy man - one who was chafing under the restrictions of remaining in the hospital without his work to occupy him.

Severus had unbent enough to allow Remus his cell phone and a visit by his young assistant, a rather awkward young woman with hair dyed a shocking shade of fuchsia topped with a ridiculous furry red St. Nicholas hat and earrings shaped like snow flakes in honor of the approaching holiday. Within two minutes of arriving, she managed to drop a few of the file folders containing Remus' notes, scattering papers across the polished tile, and had nearly knocked Remus' laptop to the floor. It was unclear, however, as to whether she was naturally clumsy or if the obvious adoration with which she regarded her employer made her nervous and therefore graceless as well.

As it was, Severus couldn't stand to be in the room while she was there, and so he had taken himself off with a haughty sniff and a sharp comment about the breakables in the room - including his patient - which had caused her to flush a shade of red that clashed violently with her hair. It wasn't until he'd seen her depart Lupin's room that he went back, intent on finishing the exam her arrival had interrupted.

"Sorry about that. I thought she was going to come after the office closed," Lupin said, as Severus shone a light in his eyes for the fifteenth time. 

Severus grunted in reply, not ready to be mollified for having the silly bint's presence inflicted upon him. 

"I appreciate that you're letting me keep up with work," Lupin continued, obviously sensing that a bit of appeasement wouldn't go amiss. "I love my job, and there are some of the children that I fret about to a certain extent. It's hard when they hurt and they're too young to understand why. And of course, it seems so unfair that they have to suffer at all."

"Suffering is a way of life," Severus replied, pulling back and tucking away his penlight. He picked up Remus' chart and made a note. "Speaking of which, why do you saddle yourself with that singularly maladroit female as an assistant? Is it because she's so infatuated with you and you like the adoration?"

"What?" Lupin blinked, then shook his head with a long-suffering sigh. "Oh, God, no," he said. "I know that she's a bit, um, clumsy, but she's very good at her job, really. Not to mention that she's a distant cousin of Regulus', and I don't want to annoy him by giving her the sack."

The relationship between their mutual friend and Lupin's assistant surprised Severus, and he looked at Lupin with a raised brow. "But you don't object to her fawning all over you?"

"Of course I do!" Lupin said sharply, then winced. "Sorry, it's a bit of a sore point with me. I'm too old for her, too dedicated to my work, and, believe me, entirely too gay for that young woman. I've tried to put her off nicely, and she doesn't _say_ anything untoward, but... well, yes, I know that she's got a bit of a crush on me. I don't like it, but it hasn't interfered with her work, and I'm hoping that eventually she'll take the hint and move on to someone more suitable."

"Ah." Severus' single syllable could have meant anything, and he wasn't exactly certain what he intended by it himself. He was too busy digesting Lupin's words while pretending to scribble busily in the chart.

"Ah?" Lupin asked, and Severus shrugged.

"Nothing. Just like your symptoms," he replied. "Well, I'm off to do some real work on people who are actually sick, then home. I'll see you in the morning."

"You're leaving?" Lupin looked up at him with wide eyes full of appeal, his expression so woebegone that Severus had to wonder if he practiced it in front of a mirror. And yet it was still effective, for Severus found himself hesitating.

"Yes, I am. Why?"

"It just gets so lonely and boring here in the evenings," Lupin replied, heaving a mighty sigh. "I'm not much of one for television, and once I go over these charts, I'll have nothing much to do. I've read all the books I had, and... well, I just don't have anyone to _talk_ to."

"Family? Friends?" Severus asked, although he'd already gotten the feeling that Regulus was one of Lupin's surprisingly few friends, and he knew that Remus had no close family, since the 'next of kin' listed on his forms was apparently some third cousin living in Brighton. 

"Not really. I've been too involved in my work the last few years, and other than Regulus, most of my friends from school have gone their own way," Lupin replied softly. "I think I might be coming to regret that, given this -" he waved a hand at the monitoring equipment around the bed. "I know life is precious and fragile, but before, it was just something I told _other_ people, not something I ever applied to myself."

"Conceited of you, wasn't it?" Severus asked, although, truth be told, he could probably say the same thing about himself if he decided to give it some thought. No doubt many doctors could. "So you've given your life to your work, and now that you find yourself with what could possibly be a life threatening illness, you're thinking that you may have wasted your opportunity to have a family and the whole white picket fence experience."

Severus' tone was sardonic, and Lupin flushed. "Well... yes, in a way, I suppose. Although you make it sound so..."

"Maudlin? Ordinary? Boring?" Severus asked, then snorted in dismissal. "Because that's what it _is_. If you're a physician, a healer, none of those things will ever fully satisfy you on their own. Tell me, can you imagine yourself living in the suburbs with a nine to five job at the bank, married to that assistant of yours, raising a passel of snot-nosed brats while you worried yourself into an ulcer with the knowledge that nothing you do will ever make any real difference?"

Lupin stared at him, his expression somber. "When you put it like that... no, I couldn't be satisfied. Quite aside from the fact that I have no interest in women, I can't see myself in a humdrum job or being content with never helping anyone again." One corner of his mouth quirked up in sudden amusement. "The passel of brats, however, might be rather fun. I _am_ a pediatrician, after all. I happen to like children, and I might someday adopt a few, since the traditional method of procreation is not an option."

"It figures." Severus closed the chart and placed it under the cardiograph, then pocketed his pen. He supposed he _could_ stay and talk for a bit, since Lupin wasn't a complete idiot, but he didn't want Lupin to get the wrong idea. "Well, I'll be going now."

"Must you, really?" Lupin asked, his voice soft as he once again gazed at Severus with those warm eyes. 

Severus heaved a put-upon sigh and looked at his watch. He didn't really have anywhere he needed to be; he merely didn't want to give Lupin the impression that he actually _wanted_ to stay and continue their discussion. "Oh, very well," he said, heaving a long-suffering sigh. "I suppose I can stay for a bit and talk to you, in the interests of keeping you from expiring of boredom and wasting all the work we've put into you." He sat down in the chair next to Remus' bed, making himself as comfortable as possible in the lumpy seat. "So. What did you want to talk about?"

Lupin's expression was suddenly too innocent to be innocent, and his eyes twinkled. "Well, now that you know all about my preferences... what about yours?"

"I should have known you'd try to make this about me, but it won't work," Severus replied with an airy wave of his hand. "You wanted to talk, so _you_ talk. Just don't bore _me_ or I'll suddenly find I have pressing business elsewhere."

"All right," Lupin thought for a moment. "Well, let's start with what we have in common, namely Regulus. I don't know how long you've known him, but he and I met at University. I knew his older brother first - Sirius, I'm sure he's mentioned him - because he was my roommate. Then Regulus came to the same school the year after. Of course, the two of them didn't get on very well, but since Regulus and I were both pre-med, we hit it off. After Sirius dropped out of school, Regulus and I became roommates, and we were close until we both went off to different medical schools." He smiled. "Reg and I are very different, but I've always had a sneaking admiration for him. He's so sure of himself, something I've never been."

"He is that... except perhaps now," Severus replied, giving an evil chuckle. "That accountant has him tied up in knots."

"Oh, yes," Lupin replied. "Personally, I'm glad to see it. He's a good man and a good friend. He deserves to be happy."

"Yes, he does." Severus sobered, thinking about all the things Regulus had done for him. "I owe him a great deal. But that doesn't mean I'm not going to torment him about his chosen partner!"

"Well, I think he rather expects it." Lupin looked at Severus, his expression one of curiosity. "You went to medical school with him, right? He and I didn't have time to do much more than exchange occasional letters during that time, what with us being several hundred miles apart and in totally different specialties."

"Yes, we were in a lot of the same courses," Severus replied slowly. He didn't talk about his past much, having put it behind him as much as possible, but Lupin already knew Regulus, so it wasn't as though he were exactly a stranger. "I started out in cardiology myself, but I found I liked diagnostics better. Regulus and I hit it off, however, and ended up helping each other study. Then we were offered internships at the same hospital, and the friendship carried on."

"Ah," Remus nodded. "Then you were there with him when there was that horrible occurrence at Smithfield Hospital? Regulus said that it was only the influence of his family that kept him from getting caught up in the scandal. Such a terrible thing, for a hospital administrator to be substituting experimental drugs for the real ones and taking bribes from the company executives. But of course, you know more about it than I do. I just remember being shocked and very relieved that Regulus didn't end up taking the fall for it the way Riddle wanted him to."

Severus felt a cold chill down his spine. It was bizarre to hear the nightmare which had consumed his whole life put in such terms, highlighting the influence on someone else as though it had never touched Severus at all. Part of him, however, was grateful to Regulus, who had shown a remarkable amount of discretion in apparently not mentioning Severus' involvement to Lupin at all.

"Yes," he said shortly, unable to keep the strain out of his voice. Even though it had been several years since the incident, Malfoy's little attempt at coercion a few weeks before had brought back many bad memories of that time, and every time Severus was forced to look at the man, he was reminded of it. 

"Such an awful thing, and from what Regulus told me, the whole thing would have been covered up completely if that young woman hadn't died," Lupin continued. "How awful for Riddle to have protected himself by making it seem as though the doctors working for him had been the ones at fault."

Neat words, summing up a situation that had been far more complex than anyone who wasn't directly involved could possibly understand. In a way, though, it helped give Severus some needed distance from the whole horrific incident, and he found words trembling on his lips, practically begging to be uttered. So many people had judged him badly, had believed that he and Regulus and some of the others really had known what was going on under their noses. "Riddle had a plan. Unfortunately, too many people couldn't see past the charming facade he presented to see the vile snake beneath it; not until it was far too late."

Severus knew his tone was far too bitter for his comment to have been taken as casual, and it was confirmed when Lupin's eyes widened. "Let me guess... you were involved, too?"

"Yes." Severus didn't want to be talking about this, but he couldn't seem to stop his need to do so; he'd thought he was inured to the sight of revulsion on the faces of strangers and acquaintances alike, but for some reason, he couldn't stand the thought that Lupin might seem him like that as well. "I was one of those who thought that Tom Riddle was a brilliant man, a leader, someone on the cutting edge of medicine and willing to take whatever risks were necessary in order to save the lives of the patients in his hospital. He was what lured both Regulus and me to Smithfield rather than somewhere else. A state of the art facility with forward thinking practices; the only problem was that rather than being on the cutting edge, he was really going beyond it, allowing his patients - _our_ patients - to be used as guinea pigs. And not even for a noble cause! Oh, no. He was _paid_ for the privilege of risking lives in order to help rich companies turn an even larger profit! Then when his scheme was exposed, he wasted no time in producing 'proof' that those who worked for him had been the ones breaking the law! The selfish bastard couldn't even take responsibility for his actions; he had to try to ruin the lives and careers of all the doctors who had believed in him, who had worked their arses off because they thought he was actually trying to save lives!"

Severus' voice had risen to the point that when he stopped speaking, he could still hear his words echoing in the room. He was breathing fast, and his hands were clenched into fists on the arms of his chair. He'd leaned forward until he was almost on the edge of his seat, staring into Lupin's shocked face, which he'd barely seen until his tirade was over. His anger suddenly drained away, and he drew in a deep breath, sitting back in his seat once more and giving a shrug as though he'd not suddenly released three years of pent up emotion in that brief tirade.

Lupin was looking at him with concern, but Severus was secretly relieved that there was no repugnance in his expression, no apparent judgment that Severus _should_ have known, somehow. That had been the opinion of a great many of his colleagues, after all, and of the administrators of the hospitals where he'd tried to find work after Smithfield. In many ways, be judged stupid and unobservant was far more damaging to his career than actually being _guilty_.

"At least he _was_ found guilty, and even though he didn't get as much punishment as he deserved, the truth did come out," Lupin said quietly. Then he did something surprising, sitting up so that he could reach out and put a hand over one of Severus'. "I can't imagine how difficult it must have been for you or for Regulus, but I'm glad that you kept practicing medicine afterward, despite how many doors I know must have been slammed in your face. You're an excellent doctor, Severus, and it would have been as much of a crime for Riddle to have driven you away from your vocation as it was for him to have caused the death of that girl and the endangerment of all those patients. You've a rare talent, and every life you've saved since then has been a deserved slap in Riddle's face. A victory, if you will, against the person who tried to destroy your career and your life."

Remus' hand was warm on his, and Severus sat very still, the touch and especially the words flowing over him like a healing balm. No one had ever put it in that way before, and Severus found an odd sense of absolution in Remus' words for the lingering guilt that had been plaguing him. His throat was suddenly tight, his emotions a bit too close to the surface for comfort. He needed to be alone for a while in order to recover his equilibrium before he could possibly think about carrying on any kind of conversation.

"Yes, well, lucky for you I'm still a doctor," he replied, his voice uncharacteristically husky. "Right now, however, I am a doctor in need of coffee or else I will lose my scintillating wit." 

Severus moved to rise to his feet, but Remus' hand was still on his, pulling him unexpectedly off balance. He stumbled, falling forward toward the bed, and for one panicked moment, he thought he might fall across his patient's body, ripping out the tubes and wires that were hooked into Remus' monitors. But he managed to grab hold of the one of the bed rails just as Remus' hands shot up and grasped him by the shoulders, holding him with surprising strength.

"Oops," Remus said, sounding amused at Severus' flailing. For his part, Severus gasped, going very still when he realized that his face was no more than a hands-breadth away from Remus, so close that he could see the light smattering of freckles on his nose and a faint, almost unnoticeable scar that ran along the left side of his face from the corner of his mouth to near his ear. Then his eyes were drawn against his will to Remus' lips, and the way the lower one looked so firm and full gave him the mad, almost overwhelming urge to nibble it.

 _I'm obviously losing my mind,_ Severus thought dimly. He'd done his best to ignore Remus' flirtatious blandishments, but being this close to the man, his golden gaze becoming positively molten and his warm, clean scent seeming to fill Severus' senses, it was bloody hard _not_ to notice him. His mind was screaming a warning that this was definitely a Bad Idea, but his body, which counter to his desires and the beliefs of most of his stuff actually _was_ human, felt the inexorable pull of attraction and was urging him to give in.

He wasn't certain how long they remained like that, frozen only a breath apart as Severus drowned in Remus' eyes, but the sound of a voice from the doorway brought Severus abruptly back to reality.

"Am I interrupting anything?" Regulus asked, his tone full of evil amusement. 

Severus drew back from Lupin so suddenly that he almost stumbled in the opposite direction, and he scowled at the look of unholy glee on Regulus' face. He had _not_ been about to kiss Lupin, he really hadn't, but from the mocking light in Regulus' eyes, he knew Regulus wasn't going to believe it.

He drew a breath to speak, but before he could find the exactly right tone of rebuke to set Regulus straight, Lupin spoke up from the bed.

"Yes, you are, damn you." For a moment, Lupin didn't look at all amused, and there was an actual edge to his voice, but then he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Hullo, Regulus. It's good to see you, even if your timing is awful."

"Is that so." Regulus' words weren't really a question, and he prowled into the room, fixing Severus with a look of wicked delight. "What were you doing to turn him on, Severus? Reciting lists of his shortcomings? Whispering sweet vitriol in his ear?"

Severus crossed his arms over his chest and scowled fiercely at them both. "You weren't interrupting anything other than my attempt to right myself after a stumble," he snapped, unamused by the situation - although he wasn't ready to examine too closely whether he was more annoyed at being interrupted or the fact that an interruption had been necessary in the first place. "Now I am going to go get my coffee, and if anyone tries to stop me, there will be unimaginable violence."

"Far be it from me to get in the way between you and what you want," Regulus replied, tongue firmly in his cheek and smirking in a knowing way that made Severus want to shake him until his teeth rattled. He gave a mocking bow toward the door. "Please, be my guest."

"Severus," Lupin's voice came from the bed, but Severus didn't turn around, making his way quickly out the door with what dignity he had left to him. If he could have slammed it behind him, he would have; as it was, he was probably going to need an extra large mocha cinnamon with at least three shots of espresso before he'd be willing to face either of them again.

An image of Remus' lips crossed his mind again, and he winced, striding even faster down the hall; after the coffee, he was definitely going to want a cold shower as well. Not that it had anything at all to do with Remus.


	3. Chapter 3

As much as Severus might have wanted to avoid Remus after Regulus' interruption, he knew he couldn't do it. There were tests to be run and data to be gathered as the one month mark from his last attack drew closer. Nothing to date had given any indication whether or not there would be another attack, or, if there was, what might be the culprit which was causing them. It was critical that they find out what was wrong with Remus, so that it could be cured and he could get on with his life.

The fact that Severus had begun to think of his patient as "Remus", rather than "Lupin", he tried to ignore as much as possible.

It was hard, however, when Remus always had a smile for him, no matter what horrific diagnostic test Severus ordered run on him. Of course the fact that Remus was a physician helped, he was certain; the tests were hardly strange or unknown to him, and a lot of what patients suffered from was simply dread of the unknown. Yet he could also discuss the results with Remus as well, and he found Remus to be very matter-of-fact about things.

"I need to watch those triglycerides," Remus said with a rueful expression after Severus reported the results of a blood test to him. "My father died of a heart attack when I was at university, and I have no wish to follow in those particular footsteps of his."

"Oh?" Severus looked up from Remus' chart, finding himself curious. "Was your father a physician as well?"

"Yes. Pediatrics," Remus replied, lips curved up in a small smile, one that drew Severus' attention to his mouth before Severus hastily turned his attention back to the numbers he'd been studying. "He had a small, private practice in Scotland, and his patients adored him. We lived in a small town near Loch Bon Brae."

"You don't have a Scottish accent, and Lupin isn't a Scottish name," Severus observed, almost to himself, then looked up when Remus chuckled.

"Everyone seems surprised when I tell them where I'm from," Remus replied. "My mother was Scottish, and she and my dad met when she went took training in London as a nurse. Dad was a medical student, and they fell in love and married almost at once. I was born while Dad was finishing up his residency, and then when I was three, we moved to my mother's home town where Dad set up his practice. Mum was an only child and wanted to be near her parents. For some reason, though, I never picked up the Scottish brogue; I think I was unconsciously emulating my father's speech. I adored him; he was a wonderful, kind and caring man, and I miss him still."

There was sadness in Remus' tone and a dark shadow in his eyes, the expression seeming very foreign since Severus had only ever seen Remus as annoyingly cheerful. "What happened to your mother?" he heard himself asking, remembering that she hadn't been Remus' listed next-of-kin.

"She died when I was in medical school," came the wistful response. "I think that after my dad succumbed to a heart attack, she just didn't care to go on without him. Her parents had died not long before my father, and my dad's parents were gone as well. She caught pneumonia one winter, and I think she didn't try to fight it. She was only in her early forties." Remus seemed to try to shake off his melancholy, and he tilted his head as he gazed at Severus. "What about you? Big family?"

Severus was quite used to patients sharing their entire life stories, but rarely did anyone ask about his own history, and when they did, he normally brushed off the inquiry without answering. 

"No," he found himself replying. "My parents are also deceased, and I have no siblings." He lifted his chin, feeling the need to clarify, lest Remus believe Severus' history as soppily maudlin as his own. "Unlike you, however, I was not close to my parents, nor did I follow in my father's footsteps. If I had, I'd be driving a lorry rather than trying to save your life."

Remus seemed to pick up on the defensiveness in his tone, for Severus saw the flare of understanding in his eyes. "I take it that he thought you were getting above your place, wanting to be a doctor?" Severus shrugged, and Remus sighed. "I've seen it too many times and not just about careers. On a few, mercifully rare occasions, I've even had a parent of one of my patients who has been reluctant to pursue aggressive treatment because they felt that it was somehow too much or too good for their child. I've never understood it."

"Ignorance is rampant," Severus snorted in reply. He flipped the chart closed. "Unfortunately, however, other than your cholesterol being _slightly_ elevated, there are still no indications as to what has been causing your attacks or if they will continue."

"Sorry to be so difficult." Remus gave a lopsided smile. "I'm as anxious to find the cause as you are, believe me."

"Really?" Severus raised a brow in mock disbelief. "I am beginning to believe that you like being in that bed, being waited on hand and foot and having all the nurses fawn all over you and hang mistletoe over your head and stop by to water your poinsettias." He looked pointedly at the festive potted flowers on Remus' windowsill. "Oh, don't give me that innocent expression. I do have ears. One can't help but hear them all talking about that 'Nice Dr. Lupin' and how you need a woman to take care of you!"

Remus shuddered theatrically, but there was a light of amusement in his eyes as he peered at Severus through his lashes. "No woman, thanks, but I wouldn't mind having _someone_ taking care of me."

The air in the room suddenly took on a certain tension, and Severus knew that the conversation had taken a dangerous turn. After what had happened when he'd stumbled and nearly fallen across Remus, he knew he ought to put an end to this for once and for all. "I'm sure you'd have no lack of volunteers, once you get out of here - if not before," Severus replied, his tone abrupt. He tried to tell himself that he wasn't attracted to Remus, but suddenly a vision flashed before his eyes of Remus being held in the arms of some young, buff blond, and he tensed up and scowled at the flare of jealousy he felt, too strong to be brushed aside or ignored.

"I don't want just anyone," Remus said, apparently abandoning coyness in favor of direct action. "I want you."

The declaration might have been bald, but the huskiness of Remus' voice sent a shiver down Severus' spine. He wasn't used to be the object of someone's desires, and the fact that it was Remus didn't make it any less difficult to understand or deal with. "That's not going to happen," he responded, although he wasn't certain if he was trying to convince Remus or himself. "You're my patient, and..."

"And we're both intelligent adults, and I'm attracted to you," Remus replied softly. "You're attracted to me, too. I saw it in your eyes the other night. If Regulus hadn't come in, you would have kissed me. Admit it, Severus. This isn't one sided."

"It is!" Severus insisted.

"Then prove it." Remus' look was pure, sensual challenge, his voice deliberately pitched to a sultry murmur. "Kiss me. If you can do it and honestly tell me you feel nothing, you have my word I'll stop the flirtation and leave you alone."

Severus felt backed into a corner, and it wasn't a position he cared for in the least. Ethics aside, he didn't like being forced into doing anything, but at the same time, he had never been able to resist a challenge. He glared at Remus, grinding his teeth and seething in annoyance.

"Fine!" he snapped. He'd kiss Remus and prove to them both that he really was in control of both himself and the situation. He didn't even stop to wonder why he felt certain Remus would keep his word, other than the fact that it was just the way Remus was. All Severus had to do was show him that there was no attraction, then perhaps he could get on with the business of healing Remus and getting him the hell out of here.

Stepping closer to the bed, Severus grasped Remus' shoulders, pulling him up as he leaned down. He had a brief impression of Remus' wide, startled eyes, and then their lips met. 

Any illusion Severus had about controlling the situation was lost in that moment.

He'd meant the kiss to be angry, a rejection of Remus and a denial that he felt anything for him other than the concern of a doctor for a patient. Yet at the first touch of lips, his firm and hard, Remus' soft and pliant, Severus felt a surge of desire, one which became almost overwhelming when Remus moaned softly. Severus _felt_ that seductive sound as a frisson of awareness down his spine, and he wanted to hear it again, so much so that when Remus parted his lips, Severus didn't hesitate to take the invitation.

He plundered Remus' mouth, exploring and tasting, devouring with a greedy hunger that shocked him. Remus' taste was instantly addictive, and Severus couldn't get enough of it as he twined his tongue with Remus', every breath drawing him further and further down into a dark haze, making him crave more. Remus' hands were in his hair, tangled in the long strands as he pulled Severus even closer. How and why this had started seemed infinitely remote as Remus responded with an eagerness that matched Severus' own, driving all thoughts of right or wrong from Severus' mind. There was only kiss flowing into ravenous kiss, only heated need and the exquisite reality of Remus' answering desire.

Severus heard a pounding in his ears, the thudding of their hearts seeming to beat in unison. It was overlaid with a loud beeping, one that became faster, insistent, and too much to ignore. He thought there was something else, a gasp of surprise, but Remus was suddenly pulling back, and Severus opened his eyes, a sharp protest on his lips that remained unvoiced as he looked into Remus' flushed, smiling face.

"I think I win," Remus said, his lips pink and swollen from the kiss. His eyes were dark with desire, and his hands cradled Severus' face gently, thumbs trailing over Severus' cheekbones and sending a shiver down his spine. "You want me, too."

Part of Severus wanted to give in to the seduction he could see in Remus' gaze, but now that the kiss had ended, the reality of what he had done set in quickly, dousing him as effectively as though a bucket of cold water had been dumped over his head.

He pulled away from Remus almost violently, stepping back and glaring with all the self-defensive fury he could muster. This couldn't be happening; he simply couldn't allow it. He didn't get involved with patients. He didn't get involved with _anyone_.

"All I want is to get out of here," he heard himself saying, his voice steadier than he would have imagined it could be. Remus' eyes widened in shock, and Severus took refuge in the sarcasm that was so familiar. "One kiss proves nothing, Lupin. Just because someone feels base attraction doesn't mean they must act upon it when it clearly would be a monumental mistake to do so, and I think the sooner that you get over yourself and get on with your life, the better off we'll all be."

Remus went pale. "No! Severus, you can't-"

"I can," Severus said harshly. "This is over, Lupin, for once and for all. You promised to leave me alone, and I expect you to keep your word." With that he whirled and left the room, ignoring Remus' voice as it trailed after him, full of entreaty. He told himself he felt nothing, that he was safe so long as he pushed people away. Letting anyone close made him vulnerable. _Believing_ in someone was a sure path to destruction. 

Stalking down the corridor toward his office, Severus was so intent on shutting out everyone and everything that he failed to notice a pair of pale eyes following his progress, narrowed in speculation.

* * *

"What do you want, Lucius?"

Severus' voice was cold and barely polite as he addressed the hospital administrator, who was smiling at him in a way that Severus didn't like at all. Not that Severus liked much of anything at the moment, given the sleepless night he spent, tossing and turning after that disturbing, ill-considered kiss. Every time he closed his eyes, he could taste Remus again, and the sound of Remus' soft, needy moans seemed to echo in his room. Somehow his bed seemed horribly large and empty, and after a few hours, Severus had given up on sleep completely, spending the rest of the night staring sightlessly at some television program that he couldn't now remember at all.

Even the largest, sweetest, most overloaded-with-espresso coffee hadn't helped him to shake his fatigue, and he glared at Malfoy with irritation, knowing that he must look especially bad in comparison to Lucius' impeccably groomed self.

"I've come to offer you a proposition," Lucius said. His tone was casual; however the look in his eyes was anything but. 

Severus was instantly wary. After the nightmare with Riddle and then Lucius' previous attempt to get Severus to use the new painkiller on his patients, Severus had the sinking feeling that whatever Lucius had to say was not going to be something he would care for in the slightest.

"Send me an email, and I'll review whatever it is you wish to suggest," he said, hedging his bets that whatever it was, Lucius wouldn't want it in writing.

"I think you might prefer that this not be set down where anyone else could see it," Lucius drawled.

"Me?" Severus raised a brow, wondering what in the devil the man could be on about.

"Yes, you." Lucius flicked an imaginary speck of lint from his sleeve, obviously playing for the upper hand and trying to make Severus sweat. If the truth were told, Severus did feel a flare of paranoia. 

Still he remained silent for several long moments, meeting Lucius' self-satisfied smirk with a look of casual indifference. Obviously Lucius was waiting for him to ask, and Severus refused to give him the satisfaction. He crossed his arms over his chest, prepared to wait out the entire day with stubborn determination; this kind of game playing was something he loathed, but neither was he prepared to give in, no matter how tired he was.

The silence stretched on and on, until at last, Lucius' desire to issue whatever ultimatum he was contemplating overcame his need to force Severus to speak. He covered his lapse with a chuckle. "Very well, I'll get to the point. I want you to use the painkiller as I previously requested."

Severus snorted. "I believe I made my position on that subject perfectly clear," he said, shaking his head emphatically. "This is not a subject for discussion. I've not changed my mind."

"Not yet, perhaps... but you will."

Lucius' tone of smug certainty made Severus frown, and his eyes narrowed as he looked up at Lucius with dislike. "I do not think so. There's nothing you can do to make me prescribe a painkiller with unknown side effects that might harm my patients."

Lucius leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low, husky murmur that was obscenely intimate given the circumstances. "Not even if I tell you that if you don't, I'll have your paramour ejected from the hospital and have an investigation launched to determine the ethics of you having an affair with one of your patients?"

The look of triumph on Lucius' face made Severus feel physically ill, but he forced himself to look at the circumstances as dispassionately as possible. Lucius must have somehow witnessed that damned kiss or else been told about it by someone who had. Then he had, of course, leaped to the absolute wrong conclusion, not that it would stand in the way of him trying to use the information for his own twisted ends.

Severus could call his bluff and let Lucius start an investigation. It was a matter of his word against Severus', and given patient confidentiality rules, Severus might even be able to keep Remus out of it completely. Severus didn't even have to lie, since he and Lupin were not lovers, and after what he had said, they certainly never would be. A kiss... well, Severus might get a reprimand for admitting that he _had_ kissed a patient, but it would probably be a mere slap on the wrist. Yet there was a chance it could blow up into something more, given the previous investigation he'd been subjected to due to Riddle's machinations. Either way, however, Severus didn't think he would lose his job.

Not that it really mattered, given what Lucius was attempting to do.

A feeling of cold certainty caused Severus to straighten his spine, and he gazed back at Lucius with an expression of calm that masked his fury at Lucius' attempt at manipulation.

"So if I don't do as you ask and prescribe the painkiller to my patients, you'll ruin my career?" he asked, almost conversationally, and he had the small satisfaction of seeing Lucius blink in consternation.

"I'll do more than that. I'll have you fired," Lucius shot back, upping the stakes with reckless abandon. "Now be reasonable, Severus. This isn't that difficult a decision, is it? After all, I was the only one who would hire you after that debacle at Smithfield. I've let you have things your way for three years, and it's time that you paid me back a little of what you owe me for giving you the job you so desperately need."

It almost made sense, at least from a point of view as twisted as Malfoy's. Everything was a game to him; he lived for the thrill of high stakes and influence, having control over those beneath him and exerting influence on those above. He differed from Riddle only in his methods. Riddle had been a smooth manipulator, so skilled and subtle that everyone always thought that they had come up with whatever idea he planted in their heads, and he'd had an uncanny knack at reading people and playing to their desires without them ever realizing it was happening. Malfoy, however, had all the subtle charm of a sledgehammer meeting a brick wall.

Unfortunately, although his methods were crude, it didn't change Severus' reaction in the least.

"Very well," Severus said, rising to his feet and facing Lucius, his chin tipped up and his gaze direct. Lucius had a moment to look victorious, until he saw the implacable look in Severus eyes. "I quit."

Two short, distinct words that ended Severus' career. He might be able to find someone else to take a chance on him, but after two incidents of dealing with hospitals and the corrupt idiots who ran them, he didn't think he had the stomach for it any longer. The worst part wasn't even what was being done to him; no doubt Lucius would find some willing sap to give in to him, and it was the patients who would suffer, as they had at Smithfield. Severus could retaliate, and when he'd had time to recover, he would do so. If Lucius hadn't covered his tracks with the same skill Riddle had, he'd take a fall as well. But all of that didn't change what Severus knew he had to do at this moment.

Lucius looked torn between dismay and rage, and his expression was almost comical, if Severus had been in the mood to enjoy it, which he wasn't. "You can't!" Lucius managed to get out after spending several moments opening and closing his mouth, at a loss for words for what might have been the first time in his life. "You have nothing to fall back on. You _need_ this job!"

"It sounds as though you need me more than I need you," Severus replied, although the words didn't give him as much satisfaction as he would have liked. "Well, I believe we're done here, Lucius. You'll have my resignation on your desk in an hour."

"This isn't over, Snape!" Lucius snarled. "I'll have Lupin thrown out of the hospital, and-"

"And nothing." Severus' voice cracked like a whip, so loud that Lucius drew up short. "You will do _nothing_ to Lupin. You will let this drop at once, or I will be the one to go to the hospital board. Have you ever heard the term 'mutually assured destruction'? I have nothing left to lose now, do I? But you still do, and no doubt my resignation will raise enough questions without me pointing fingers. I suggest you let it go, or else you'll find that I can stir up things in a way you'll find most unpleasant."

Lucius gnashed his teeth, his pale skin flushed to the color of a ripe tomato. He glared daggers at Severus, and then with a growl of disgust, he turned and stomped off, slamming the door of Severus' office behind him. 

Severus snarled after him, then picked up the first thing at hand, which happened to be his largest coffee mug, the one with 'World's Greatest Doctor' written on it in large block letters. It had been a joke Christmas gift from Regulus several years before, and Regulus had used a dry erase marker at the time to cross out "Great" and substitute "Crankiest". That had come off the first time Severus had washed it, of course, but Severus had continued to use it, and from time to time, Regulus had penned other things, like "Surliest" or "Snarkiest" or "Bitchiest" to tease him. It had sentimental value, but Severus didn't care about that, nor about the fact that it was still half-full of hot coffee. It left his hand in a blur of motion, sailing through the air and impacting on the door precisely where Malfoy's head would have been. There was a explosive crack as it shattered into hundreds of fragments, which fell to the floor in tinkling shards as the sticky brown liquid ran down the door and puddled on the white floor.

For several moments, Severus stood there, staring at the carnage and feeling completely empty, as if the act of violence had drained him until there was no emotion left. No doubt it would return later, as hot and furious as it had been when he'd thrown the mug, but for now, it had receded, which was probably for the best. It was difficult to pack when trembling with rage, and Severus' primary desire at the moment was to take everything that was his and get as far away from the hospital as possible.

Turning back to his desk, Severus began to open the drawers and blindly pull things from them, stacking folders and notes into untidy piles on the top. He'd sort it all out later, when he had time. Time, after all, was just about the only thing he was guaranteed to have plenty of in the future.

* * *

Someone was pounding on his door.

Severus opened his eyes and sat up with a groan, looking about for a moment in bleary confusion as he tried to sort out what time it was. Morning, from the angle of the light coming in through the window, and he'd fallen asleep on his sofa after staring sightlessly at the television for hours, not seeing the holiday specials promoting love and peace which played endlessly on and on. He must have drifted off without realizing it, although he did seem to recall some annoying dreams about being mocked by a group of toy-wielding elves, all of whom bore a horrific resemblance to Lucius.

The knock sounded again, and Severus grumbled as he hauled himself to his feet with a weary sigh. He looked down at himself, rumpled and unkempt from having slept in his clothes, but then he shrugged and started toward the door. If it were the Queen come calling, then she'd just have to take what she got, same as anyone else.

It was no surprise, however, that his visitor turned out to be Regulus rather than any adventurous or lost royalty. Severus didn't say a word, merely stepping back from the door and gesturing for Regulus to enter, already anticipating the diatribe to come from the look on his friend's face. Nor was he disappointed, as Regulus had barely stepped inside the foyer before he took a deep breath and started in.

"Have you lost your mind? Quitting? Since when are you a quitter?" Regulus fumed. He hadn't even taken off his coat, and he began to pace restlessly, clenching his hands as though he'd like to put them around Severus' neck. "What in the bloody hell is going on with you? How could you just go off like that without even telling me? And just before the holidays, too! You know you're needed most at this time of year!"

There was hurt under Regulus' anger, and if Severus had any regret at all, it was for disappointing the man who'd stood by him. "You weren't around, and unfortunately, Lucius doesn't schedule his blackmail attempts in advance."

"I swear, I can't turn my back on you for two bloody seconds." Regulus stared at him for a long moment as if torn between anger and sympathy, and finally, he shook his head and shrugged out of his coat, throwing it over the back of the nearest chair before settling on the sofa. "Right," he said in a tone that brooked no argument. "Spill. I want details, and I want them now."

"Who are you, the holy inquisitor?" Severus replied, but the complaint was merely for form's sake. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he sat down on the other end of the sofa. He wasn't about to tell Regulus _everything_ , but he did owe his friend an explanation. 

Lowering his hand, he scowled at nothing in particular. "It was the same thing he wanted the last time. For me to use the painkillers on my patients. I refused, he insisted, threatened to fire me, and so I beat him to the finish line and put in my resignation."

Regulus frowned, visibly puzzled. "That doesn't make sense. The two of you have butted heads over this issue before, and you didn't quit. Why now? His threats were empty, and you know it. You've given him no excuse to fire you."

He should have known that Regulus wouldn't take the easy answer at face value, but he didn't want to mention Lupin or what had happened between them. There was a always a chance that Lupin himself would tell Regulus about it, but Severus felt an odd reluctance to admit that the incident was related to what Malfoy had tried to do. "I'm tired of being threatened and tired of having to fight against the greed and stupidity of paper pushers in order to do my job!" It was true enough, after all, and he had no difficulty infusing the words with his bitterness and frustration. 

"I'm sure you are," Regulus replied, giving him a long, level stare. "But do us both a favor and remember who you're talking to. I'm not stupid, and I know you better than to believe you would throw away your entire career just because you got fed up with Malfoy and pitched a diva fit that ended with you flouncing off in a huff. There's more to it than that, and I want to know what it is."

Severus ground his teeth, the vexation he felt at the way his career had ended manifesting as a bit of annoyance at Regulus' persistence. "You're not stupid, but you _are_ incredibly nosy," he snarked, raking a hand through his hair. Obviously Regulus wasn't going to be put off, and there was no help for it but to tell him - although he couldn't keep a certain petulance out of his tone. "I kissed Lupin, all right? And Malfoy saw it, and he threatened to ruin my career over inappropriate involvement with a patient. There, are you happy now?"

"Wait, back up a bit." Regulus' eyes had grown wide and round, and he was openly boggling at Severus. "You kissed Remus? And you didn't _tell_ me? You selfish git!"

"Me? Selfish?" Severus snarled, throwing his hands up in the air. " _He_ made me do it! And besides, you haven't been around. You've been off shagging tall, dark, and arithmetic! What am I supposed to do, track you down and interrupt your tryst just to tell you that _your_ friend hounded me into snogging him?"

"Oh, right." Regulus folded his arms and aimed a dubious stare at Severus. "Despite the fact that he is bed-ridden and hooked up to all manner of equipment, he somehow managed to wrestle poor upright and mobile you into a kiss, the big bully." The stare shifted into a mild glare. "And don't make this about me. If you're jealous because I have a life outside of the hospital, that's _your_ problem, and it's easily solved by snogging Remus some more."

Severus sprang to his feet with an inarticulate snarl, prowling across the room with the all the pent up tension and aggression of a caged tiger. He returned Regulus' glare, but he wasn't angry with his friend, just with the entire situation. He didn't like not being in control, and it seemed that everything had conspired over the last few weeks to wrest every last bit of it from his hands.

"I am not going to be snogging Lupin any more - let's get that straight at once," he growled, crossing his arms across his chest in a pose that he didn't want to admit was defensive. "And his innocent look is all an act. The man is as devious as Malfoy! I'm well rid of the both of them."

"Devious, yes, but not malicious. In that, he's remarkably like you," Regulus pointed out, watching Severus pace around with sympathy clear to read in his pale eyes. "It's one of several reasons why I think the two of you might suit rather well." He lifted one hand and waved away any heated retort Severus might make. "My point is, it's unfair to equate him with Malfoy and Riddle." His expression softened a little then. "I know Riddle abused your trust, but not everyone is out to use you like that. Riddle and Malfoy are the exceptions, not the rule, and you can't live the rest of your life assuming that everyone is out to get you like they did. Otherwise, you're in for a very lonely time of it."

Severus clenched his jaw so hard it popped loudly. He was angry; angry at Lupin, and at Malfoy, and even at Regulus, who was telling him things he didn't want to hear. He was furious at the whole bloody damned _world_ , which seemed to be conspiring to push him in directions he didn't want to go. If he were in the mood to be honest with himself, he would have admitted that Regulus was right, but right now, he was feeling far too put upon to face up to the thought that he might actually _need_ anyone.

Yet Regulus was his only friend, and Severus was aware enough of not only the debt he owed Regulus, but also the fact that Regulus was one of the very few people about whom Severus genuinely cared. It helped to quiet the heated invective that wanted to burst forth from his lips, although he could feel the involuntary tic that had developed at the corner of his eye.

"It's a moot point," he finally said, his voice low and bitter. "If it wasn't the mistake with Lupin, Malfoy would no doubt have hounded me until he found something he could use to try to force me into doing as he wished. I have no desire to live like that, forever looking over my shoulder waiting for the next demand, the next compromise to my principles. That's how men like Malfoy operate, isn't it? I'm not certain which is worse, Riddle with his manipulations or Malfoy and his open treachery. All I do know is that I cannot and will not practice medicine in these circumstances. I'd rather drive a lorry for the rest of my life than be subjected to the selfishness of men with more power than principles!"

"No, you wouldn't." Regulus rose to his feet and moved to stand in front of Severus, gripping his shoulders in a firm, oddly comforting gesture. "You're a brilliant physician, and this is what you're meant to do. You didn't let your father or Riddle keep you from it, and we won't let Malfoy keep you from it either. You're right: you shouldn't have to live with that kind of pressure. It's neither right nor fair, and the hospital - and your patients - can't afford to lose you. We'll find an answer somehow." He offered an encouraging smile and squeezed Severus' shoulders once more before releasing him. "Meanwhile, if you ask me, I think you ought to snog Remus again. It wasn't a mistake. If anything, it was probably one of the smartest things you've done in your entire life. He's quite a catch and entirely worthy of you - and you know I don't say that lightly."

Regulus' words seemed to drain away part of Severus' anger, but he sighed and shook his head. "You're far too optimistic to be a doctor," he grumbled, although deep down, he almost hoped that Regulus was right. At least about his career; Lupin was another matter entirely, and in Severus' opinion, it was very much a lost cause. "However I suggest you stick to cardiology and avoid matchmaking in the future."

"Nonsense!" Regulus' smile widened into a grin, and he jostled Severus' arm affectionately. "Matters of the heart are my specialty. At any rate," he added, glancing at his watch, "I suppose I'd best get back to the hospital. It's close to the full moon, and you know how busy we get during that time of the month. I'll be in touch soon, all right?"

"All right." Severus felt better than he had since before that disastrous kiss. Something about what Regulus said niggled at him, but he wasn't quite certain why. Shaking it off for the moment, he gave a nod at Regulus' smile. "I'll be here, if you're able to tear yourself away from your walking calculator for a few hours." He paused for a moment. "And Regulus? Thank you. Again. As tiresome as you can be, your annoying habit of trying to rescue me from the evils of the world is not totally unappreciated."

"Good to know," Regulus replied dryly. "I would hate to think my efforts at playing Black knight on a white charger were wasted." With that, he gathered up his coat and prepared to leave.

Severus ushered Regulus to the door, bidding him goodbye in a distracted manner. Something was bothering him, an insistent little voice that seemed to be trying to tell him something that he couldn't quite hear. Shaking his head, he started toward the stairs; Regulus had looked as dapper as ever, and Severus was suddenly disgusted with himself for his wild, unwashed hair and bristly face. With the way he'd been snarling and snapping, no doubt he bore a close resemblance to a werewolf.

He stopped abruptly, one foot on the bottom step as the answer slammed into him with all the force of a runaway train, the sudden realization so powerful he gasped in shock. It had been there, the whole time, staring him in the face, and yet he hadn't seen it!

All thoughts of showering or shaving abruptly vanished as the instincts of a physician took over. Severus whirled and headed toward his study. He had to verify a few things, do some research, but he felt absolutely certain that the cure to Lupin's condition was close at hand. It was so obvious that he could have kicked himself for missing it - but that was Lupin's fault at well for distracting him.

* * *

Severus stormed through the hospital corridors, carrying a small box in his hands. The look of determination on his face made some people stop and stare, while others scurried to get out of his way. Not that he was actually seeing any of them; he was far too focused on his goal and on reaching it as quickly as possible.

The ride in the lift seemed interminable, and he almost stormed through the door as it slid back, barely missing a gurney, the words of the angry orderly following him down the hall. The interruption barely registered, and Severus smiled grimly as he approached Remus' room at last, pushing through the door without ceremony.

Remus opened his eyes, looking up in vague surprise at his unexpected visitor. Regulus, too, seemed taken aback by his abrupt entry, but he paid no attention, his gaze taking in the monitor displaying Remus' heart rate and blood pressure before moving to Remus' face. He knew that Remus' attack would have begun already, and he was correct. Pale and sweating, Remus looked like a man on the edge of death, even though his heart beat sounded reassuringly strong.

It had taken three days of research and innumerable phone calls, but Severus had at last verified to his satisfaction that he knew what was wrong with Remus and how to cure it. Not that the treatment was risky in the least, but it definitely was unusual, and it required Remus' attack to begin before he introduced it, so that they could all see proof that it was effective. 

"Why are you here?" Remus asked weakly, his expression pensive under his labored efforts to breathe. 

"Because I know what's wrong with you and how to treat it," Severus replied. He placed the box on the table beside Remus' bed, opening it up and pulling out a small item that looked like a cross between a respirator and a portable light. "This is a personal ionizer. It will fix what's wrong with you."

"An ionizer?" Regulus eyes widened in disbelief. "You're going to treat him with an _ionizer_? What in the world is that going to do? Dear lord, Severus, have you been drinking? Or taken a page from Trelawney's book? Should I go get her and some of her energy crystals to help out?"

Remus, however, was looking at Severus' face, and he nodded slowly. "All right. I'll try it."

Regulus snorted in disbelief. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"Not at all." Severus adjusted a dial on the ionizer, then placed the mask part over Remus' nose and mouth. The trust he saw in Remus' eyes was a little disconcerting, given what had passed between them before, but he concentrated on the task at hand. "Breathe deeply and slowly. It will take a few minutes."

"Just what is it you think is wrong with him?" Regulus asked, watching as Remus closed his eyes and followed Severus' instructions. "I fail to see how this can help anything. We've tried the CPAP machine, and it didn't stop the attack, and even pure oxygen only eased things a bit..."

"That's because feeding him oxygen will treat hypoxia, but it doesn't completely stop the ischemia until the underlying cause is removed," Severus replied, although his eyes never left Remus' face.

"Ischemia? You think that his cells just aren't absorbing the oxygen?" Regulus asked, frowning as he tried to process what he knew about the condition and fit it in with Remus' symptoms. "But he doesn't have heart disease, and he hasn't had a stroke!" He paused, then blinked. "Isn't it linked to Sickle Cell Anemia?"

"It is, but not in this case." Severus nodded in satisfaction as he saw the color returning to Remus' cheeks and heard his labored breathing ease. "Yes, it's working, isn't it? No, don't speak, just breathe. I don't know how long it will take for the positive ions to eliminate the hypoxia."

Remus nodded, obediently doing what Severus said, and Severus finally looked at Regulus. "Come on, Black... think back to your basic biology."

"Positive ions interfere with oxygen metabolism," Regulus said slowly. "But... to this extent? And why only for a few hours a month? Why in the world does he suddenly go acute for no reason?"

"It's not for no reason," Severus said triumphantly. He felt the same degree of satisfaction he did when he was successful at treating any patient, and he told himself it wasn't any different in Remus' case. "Our friend here is a werewolf."

"What in the world?" Regulus' mouth dropped open. "All right, you really _are_ drunk, aren't you?"

"Not a bit. Look at him - he's getting better, isn't he?" Severus couldn't help a bit of evil amusement at Regulus' expense, and it didn't hurt that Remus was looking at him as though he had lost his mind. "The full moon has an interesting effect, as it turns out. It increases the number of positive ions in the air. You might actually be allergic to silver, but the reaction was even more than that when Weasley tried the inhalation treatment. The silver caused a similar effect - too many positive ions, triggering a transient ischemic attack. Tricky beasts, those attacks. After the first one, the next one can be triggered by a lesser effect, and the next after that, and on and on. I don't know that we can discover exactly what circumstances caused your first attack, but the oxygen you were put on is probably what kept it from developing into a stroke or an actual heart attack. So now unless there is a thunderstorm or something, the full moon will make it every hard for him to breathe. Not quite lycanthropy, perhaps, but he'll need to be careful every month for the rest of his life."

While they had been talking, Remus had been breathing slowly and deeply, and he suddenly spoke from behind the mask. "I feel better - almost normal," he said. A smile curved his lips. "That's brilliant - thank you."

"I did nothing more than I would for any patient," Severus replied, his gaze sliding away uncomfortably. The look in Remus' eyes reminded him all too clearly of that disastrous kiss, and Severus wasn't ready to deal with his dangerously ambiguous feelings on the matter. He could feel Regulus' eyes on him, but he wasn't going to be pressured into something just because his best friend thought it was a good idea; Severus was a man without a career, and finding the cause of Remus' condition didn't change anything.

Remus started to speak, but Severus waved him to silence. "I have to go before Malfoy finds out I'm here," he said. "You should be fine from now on. Just use the ionizer every full moon, and it should prevent the attacks. Good-bye, Lupin."

"That's it?" Remus asked, his voice was muffled, but his eyes searched Severus' face as though looking for more. But there simply wasn't anything else for Severus to do or say. "Good-bye? Have a nice life?"

"Yes. What were you expecting? That I would pick you up and ride off into the sunset?" Severus replied, his voice harsh. It wasn't Remus' fault that Severus had been forced to give up his job, but the look of entreaty in those golden eyes brought up Severus' defenses. "You needed a cure, and I provided one, which was my job, and now it's over. Go back to your life, and I'll get on with what's left of mine."

Remus looked as though Severus had slapped him, and he made as though to speak again, but Regulus put a restraining hand on Remus' shoulder. "Let him go, Remus."

Severus should have been grateful for Regulus' interference, but the censure in his friend's tone wasn't directed toward Remus, and Severus knew it. He'd done what he'd needed to do, and now he was free to leave and go on to... well, whatever came next. Now that his absorption in curing Remus was over, it was time to face up to reality. 

He turned away from the bed and headed out of the room, down the corridor, and out of the hospital, somehow still feeling the weight of Remus' eyes on him. Never in his life had victory felt so much like a resounding defeat.


	4. Chapter 4

It was two days before Severus managed to summon up enough energy to start putting together any plans for what to do with his life. Not that he had much interest in doing anything, really, but he was not a man who was used to sitting around without something to occupy his considerable intellect, and even a sense of failure didn't make it any easier to bear enforced inactivity.

Working in another hospital was out of the question, but not surprisingly so was the thought of leaving the medical profession entirely. Which left him with two options - teaching or going into private practice. 

He'd not been back to a university since his own medical school days, and he frankly wasn't certain that he had the patience or talent for teaching anyway. It had been difficult enough dealing with his own residents and trainees, and they had already graduated from that part of their training; the thought of bright eyed youngsters who didn't know the painful realities of life as a doctor made him want to cringe.

That left opening up his own practice, which had more positive aspects than teaching, but also had a lot of drawbacks as well. He'd have to find an office and see about attracting patients or else find an established doctor to take him as a partner. It wasn't ideal, but it seemed the better course of action, all things considered; it was just going to be an incredible amount of work either way he decided to go, especially with all the sodding merriment of the season and people seeming unwilling to do real work at this time of year.

Deciding to start by seeing if there were any local practices in need of doctors, Severus signed on to his computer, but before he could do more than bring up his email, there was a knock at his door. He considered ignoring it; no doubt it was some charity doing fund-raising, or, even worse, a salesman, but in a way, he was glad of the interruption, since it let him delay for a few more minutes the arduous task of finding gainful employment.

"I'm coming!" he growled as the person at his door rang the bell, then knocked again with obvious impatience. Flipping back the lock, he readied a scathing comment, which died unuttered upon his lips as he identified his visitor. "Regulus. What are you doing here? Don't you have work to do or your ambulatory calculator to shag?"

Regulus didn't seem to take offense at the words, no doubt because it was easy to dismiss criticism when given by an unshaven man in a baggy sweatshirt, faded jeans, and bare feet. As usual, Regulus looked impeccable, even in casual clothes, his pleated black trousers emphasizing his slender hips and the grey silk shirt he wore echoing the color of his eyes. Even worse, Regulus was _smiling_ , and Severus scowled in irritation.

"I come bringing good news," Regulus replied, crossing his arms over his chest and raising a brow at his friend. "So are you going to ask me in, or do I go home and leave you to your fashion disaster?"

"If you must," Severus snapped, turning and heading back into the house, leaving Regulus to follow along behind. He wasn't certain if he believed that Regulus' news would be all that good or that it even pertained to Severus himself, but it wasn't as though he had anything else he'd rather be doing. Not to mention that Regulus might have other things to say, although Severus wasn't going to admit for even a moment that he might be curious about how Lupin was doing. That was completely over, and the sooner Severus put it behind him, the better.

Regulus trailed him back to his parlor, then lowered himself with graceful elegance to onto the sofa. Severus took his favorite chair, then faced Regulus with a frown.

"All right, you're in, and I'm listening. What did you wish to say?"

It wasn't a very gracious question, but again, Regulus didn't seem at all surprised or put off, no doubt a result of his long familiarity with Severus when he was In A Mood. "What would you say if I told you that you could come back to the hospital and be reinstated to your previous position with no danger of Malfoy ever again asking you to violate your principles or being able to threaten you for any reason?"

Severus' first reaction was surprise, then disbelief. "I think I'd ask you if you'd started believing in the tooth fairy and Santa Claus," he replied dubiously. "Fortunately, as I don't believe in fairy tales myself, I think I can save you from your folly."

"It's true, though." Regulus sat forward, his expression earnest. "I wouldn't lie to you about something like this, Severus, I swear. Malfoy can't get to you any longer, and perhaps with a little work, you could even get _him_ fired. Although having him still in place with leverage over him might be even better; that way we can keep an eye on him."

Severus knew that Regulus wouldn't lie, not to him, not about anything and especially not about something this important. "How?" he asked, licking his suddenly dry lips. Having what he really wanted held out to him in this way made him realize that any thought of going into private practice had merely been self delusion. Severus _needed_ to be in the job he had occupied, needed the atmosphere and tension of the hospital and the sense of urgency working there gave him. Also the sense of accomplishment, something he doubted that he could ever have treating runny noses and tennis elbow.

The smile Regulus wore became grim. "It turns out that Malfoy has a few secrets, things he hasn't been at all anxious for anyone to discover. Such as... he was in league with Riddle. Not just on an intellectual basis, either, or in just sharing a love of power and money. Lucius had a hand in the goings on at Smithfield; a sort of silent partner, if you will."

"What?" Severus sprang to his feet, staring down at Regulus with a mixture of horror and righteous fury. "I knew Malfoy was greedy and an arse-kissing bastard of the first order, but... Riddle? How did you find this out? Are you certain? Is there enough that perhaps we could get him sent to prison?"

"Hang on, one question at a time," Regulus protested, holding up his hands in entreaty. "Sit down, and I'll tell you everything, all right? But you have to listen... this is pretty complicated, and what I'm telling you is in confidence, all right?"

"Right." Severus took a deep breath and moved back to his seat, lowering himself down onto the edge of it and making himself stay still, even though he felt the uncharacteristic desire to fidget. "Tell me. Now."

Regulus snorted, but he didn't leave Severus in suspense. "My calculator, as you so disdainfully call him, has more talents than merely balancing books," he began, his voice full of smug pride in his significant other's abilities. "Kingsley is also _very_ skilled with computers and with digging out information that people would prefer to remain hidden. I told him about what Malfoy did to you and asked him to look into whether or not there was any thing that might indicate that Malfoy was taking kickbacks, either on or off the books. The hospital _is_ allowed to accept a certain level of private contributions, you know... but I told him to look for anything out of the ordinary."

"And?" Severus could barely contain his desperate desire to know. "What did he find?"

"That there were several contributions to the Administrator's personal budget from several sources - some perfectly legitimate, some rather more suspicious. Kingsley started checking into them and discovered that they all linked back to a small 'philanthopic' group... one that also made several contributions to Smithfield Hospital during the time that you and I were there. It took no little effort, but Kingsley was able to find out through various means that there are three very interesting people who sit on the board of that supposedly benevolent little group; one is Lucius Malfoy. Another is Joseph Freerson, the Chief Financial Officer of the company who makes that pain medication Lucius has been so heavy handed with you about. And the third... is Thomas M. Riddle."

"Bloody hell." Severus' eyes widened as he tried to absorb what Regulus seemed to be implying. "Lucius _knows_ Riddle? If so, why did he hire us?"

"Well, in my case, there's an obvious answer: Narcissa likes me, and for all that Lucius is a bastard, he does have one - perhaps _only_ one - redeeming quality. He loves his wife." Regulus rolled his eyes. "It would be easier in many ways if he didn't, and if Narcissa didn't love him, too, because I'm in a very awkward position in this for a few different reasons. Oh, I could get another job, and honestly, I'm thinking that might be the best thing for me in the long run, but it's harder when it comes to potential family scandal."

"I don't have any knowledge about that," Severus muttered, then inclined his head with a frown. "All right, so maybe you were hired because Lucius can't refuse his wife anything. That still doesn't explain me, either why he hired me to begin with or why he waited so long if he thought to make life miserable for me."

"I wouldn't be surprised if Riddle asked him to hire both of us, actually," Regulus said glumly. "Better to have the two of us under some sort of watch, I suppose, than off where he couldn't see us, possibly building up enough resentment to try to come after him or working on digging up more evidence to be used against him. Lucius hired us and gave us a lot of responsibility. To be honest, these last few years have been busy and demanding, and neither of us had much time for anything outside of work, right?"

"But there wasn't any proof. We did try to find it!" Severus snapped, feeling frustrated. "That was the whole problem, Riddle covered his tracks too well, and it came down to our words against his when that girl died. He said we knew, we said we didn't, and it's a miracle we didn't end up prosecuted for it. Bad enough that Riddle walked away with a bare slap on the wrist, when he as good as killed her with his own hands!"

"I know." Regulus' pale eyes had darkened, and Severus knew that deep down, his friend was just as bitter about the whole sodding mess as Severus was himself. "Unfortunately, that's a situation we can't change, and we don't have any proof this time, either, that Riddle had a hand in our being hired by Lucius. But it is suspicious, isn't it, in light of this organization that has been passing money to both hospitals. And it gets even better... The company that makes the pain medication is owned by the same parent company as the one that made the drug that killed Eloise Pritchett. I don't believe in _that_ much coincidence."

"Neither do I." Severus' voice was harsh. "So Lucius and Riddle are in cahoots in some way that we don't know, and the drug companies are also related. It's all fishy, but I don't understand how this gives me any leverage over Lucius. The hospital directors aren't going to care a blasted thing about vague relationships between people and corporations, no matter how suspicious it seems - and no doubt Lucius has some suitably charming explanation to make it all seem completely innocent."

Regulus' smiled again, an evil smile that Severus had never seen on his friend's face before. "No doubt he does, but it would be much, much harder for him to come up with an explanation for the tens of thousands of pounds on his financial disclosure every year for the last five that he claims come from his wife's inheritance, but which I happen to know for a fact to be a load of shit. Narcissa and I - as well as her sister and my brother - all got the same inheritance from our grandfather, and it doesn't run to nearly that kind of money. It's true that the terms of the will were closed, but Narcissa and I compared notes years ago, and we know that each of the surviving grandchildren received an equal share."

"What?" Eyes wide, Severus stared at his friend. "How can you know that? Those records are strictly confidential..." Understanding dawned, and Severus suddenly chuckled. "Your calculator really _is_ talented, isn't he? He got into Lucius' records?"

"Oh, yes... and found that right at the time that Narcissa turned twenty-five and started collecting her inheritance, Lucius' finances increased dramatically. Ironically, that was also the year after that supposedly philanthropic group was founded, and about the same time that the authorities speculate that Riddle began receiving his own set of kickbacks from the drug companies."

"Damn." Severus sighed, shaking his head, feeling disgusted at the corruption. The medical profession was supposed to be about saving lives, not about lining the pockets of greedy men at the expense of sick people. "So why was Lucius pressuring me? Is he taking heat from the drug company now because they don't have Smithfield in their pockets any longer?"

"Probably," Regulus replied, giving a slight shrug. "Unfortunately I'm no James Bond, and Kingsley wasn't able to find more than the connection, although it seems reasonable that they might have told him they're cutting off his money, and so he's trying to start the racket up again. Against, we have no proof, just this speculation. As you said, not enough for the board to dismiss Lucius, although they most likely could make him sweat. Then there's the matter of how _we_ got the information, and my relationship with Kingsley would no doubt finger him and might put him at risk, no matter that he is retained by the board and not by Lucius."

"So how..."

"Narcissa." Regulus tone was succinct. "If we intimate that we know he's lying about his finances and threaten to go to Narcissa with it, he'll back down. Because as much as she loves him, I know my cousin... the lies Lucius has told, using _her_ to do it. She'll never forgive him. If she was feeling vindictive enough, she could even turn him in for the lies about the finances."

"I see." Severus mulled it over. What Regulus was suggesting was a form of blackmail, but it was a tactic that Malfoy would understand. "So we have him over a barrel, but in reality, you could also be in hot water if the information comes out."

Regulus shrugged. "I suppose to an extent. Or rather Kingsley would be. But I think we can be certain that Lucius will behave himself; even if we don't have firm proof of what he did in the past, no matter how certain _we_ are that he did it, Kingsley is going to be keeping a _very_ close eye on him from now on. If Lucius so much as takes a tip for holding a door, Kingsley will have proof. Either Lucius will walk a straight and narrow path from now on, or he really _will_ be turned over to the authorities."

For the first time in days, Severus felt hope. Besides, it pleased him, the thought of turning the tables on a self-assured bastard like Lucius Malfoy. "Well... I think I might find it a joy to return to my old job, after all." Reaching out, he touched Regulus' hand. "Thank you for doing this. You're the only person I feel has ever given a damn about me."

Regulus shrugged, waving a hand as though to brush off Severus' gratitude. "I'm glad you'll come back, but really, I'm only the bearer of the news. Kingsley was the one who did all the leg work... and Remus was the one who suggested that Kingsley do the digging to find dirt on Malfoy. So really you should thank the two of them and realize that other people _will_ give a damn about you, too. If you'll let them."

Severus was struck dumb, and he could only watch as Regulus stood up and made ready to leave. Lupin? He'd been the one to suggest this? Severus stood up as well, feeling as the the world were wobbling a bit beneath his feet. "When did Lupin suggest it?" he asked hoarsely. "After I found the treatment?" That must be it, some form of gratitude for what Severus had done, even if Severus had pushed him away afterward. 

"No, actually, he suggested it the first time I spoke to him after you kissed him and then told him you never wanted to see him again or whatever idiocy you spat at him to cover up your attraction." Regulus shook his head. "Believe it or not, Severus, he seems to care about you, even when you treat him like complete dirt and say things to deliberately hurt him. And I think you care about him, too, even if you would rather die than admit it and throw away a good thing rather than take a chance." He fixed Severus with a disappointed look. "I don't know what's worse: the fact that your father and Riddle seemed to have destroyed any belief you have in your own desires and emotions or the fact that you've let them do it and won't fight back. If I could have one wish for Christmas, I think it would be that you'd finally wake up and stop pushing happiness away with both hands. Anyway... come to the hospital tomorrow at nine, and we'll go beard the lion. Then you can get back to your job, so that at least you'll have _one_ thing in your life that's worthwhile."

Then Regulus was gone, leaving Severus staring off into space and wondering if having his job back was going to be as fulfilling as it had been in the past or if he were going to be haunted by the lack of things he'd always thought he'd never want.

* * *

That night, for the first time in years, Severus dreamed about family.

It wasn't _his_ family, actually, although he was a child in the dream, looking up at the adults around him. There was a father, a big, strong man with golden brown hair and a huge smile that seemed to be directed to everyone and a brown haired mother, small and slender and watching her husband with adoring golden eyes. They laughed together and included him in that magic circle as though he had a right to be there, not pushing him away. His father picked him up, tossing him into the air and then catching him and holding him close.

"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

"A doctor, like you!" Severus said, not even having to think about the answer. It was, after all, the truth, and it felt so wonderful when Father smiled and him and playfully rubbed noses with him.

"You can be anything you wish," Mother said, and Father nodded.

"Of course," Father said, then chuckled. "But a doctor is a very good thing - and you'll be a wonderful one, I know it."

That made Severus laugh too, with an unselfconscious happiness he couldn't ever remember feeling before. Father put him down and turned to pull Mother into his arms, holding her close and kissing her with tenderness.

"That's how it can be. How it should be," said a sad voice, and Severus turned his head to see his mother, his _real_ mother, with her pale cheeks and sad eyes and lank black hair. He blinked in surprise, the juxtaposition of real and not-real making him shiver.

"It's not too late," Eileen continued. The smiling couple had disappeared, leaving just the two of them, and Severus was surprised to see a soft smile on her face. "Your father's career wasn't yours, and my fate doesn't have to be yours, either. Trust yourself, Severus... and go to him. You want to, deep down. Listen to what your heart is telling you for once. Don't let the voice of your father drown it out forever."

She smiled again, and Severus woke with a start, sitting up in his bed and staring into the darkness around him. His heart was pounding, but not from what had happened in the dream. Instead it was from anxiety, and he wondered if his subconscious was trying to tell him something... and if he dared to believe it.

He lay down, feeling sweat cooling on his body, but that wasn't what made him shiver. Overcoming years of self doubt couldn't be accomplished in a single night. Possibly not in a week, or a month... maybe not even in a lifetime. But for the first time, he wanted to _try_ , if for no other reason than to prove that neither Riddle nor his father had any power over shaping his destiny any longer. For a man who liked to be in control, Severus silently acknowledged that he'd given up too much of it to men who'd hurt and used him, and it was time to take it back.

When daylight came, hours later, Severus was still awake, but still no closer to an answer; at least now, however, he knew what the question really was.

* * *

The Evelina Children's Hospital was a bright, beautiful facility, everything about it new and sparkling and seeming to welcome the visitors who stepped through its doors with open arms. The large, sunlight foyer with its openwork girders looked more like a child's jungle gym than a hospital, the image enhanced by the bright, primary colors and the images of animals set in the floor mosaic. There was a huge Christmas tree set in the middle, twinkling with a myriad of lights and surrounded at its base by a fairy village, complete with a locomotive chugging diligently around the perimeter, a wee St. Nicholas waving from the top of the caboose. Even the floors had names which would appeal to a child, from the bottom one designated "Ocean", up through Arctic, Forest, Beach, Savannah, Mountain, and, quite obviously, Sky at the top. There was even a two-story, circular slide going between two floors, and judging from the faces of the children Severus passed, even ones who were obviously ill, the place didn't seem to frighten or intimidate them the way a regular hospital would. Somehow it also seemed the perfect setting for one Dr. Remus Lupin, and Severus could easily picture Remus walking these halls, smiling at his young patients, dispensing good cheer right along with their medication. 

Severus shook his head at his own fanciful thought; at one point, he might have snorted in self-derision for thinking such a thing, but he'd stopped being surprised by anything connected with Remus seeming odd or out of place, even when it came to his own inner musings. Or maybe especially when it came to those.

Trelawney had told him that the place was practically overflowing with "positive energy", and if ever Severus had to grudgingly admit the air-headed nurse had a point, he would have to concede this one. He could even tell that his own footsteps had quickened when he entered, although his desire to see Remus again might also have had something to do with that. Severus had a plan, and if he were luckier than he had any right to expect, some of Remus' own energy might be directed toward him in a very positive way. That, however, still remained to be seen.

The guard at the desk issued him a brightly colored badge and directed Severus up to the Mountain level, where Dr. Lupin was consulting. Severus thanked the young man, then took one of the glass enclosed lifts up to the fifth floor, stepping off into the cozy reception area, where he was greeted by a ward sister dressed in navy blue. She pointed him toward a room to his left, and Severus headed in that direction, stepping around a toddler who was busily stacking blocks and passing a laughing mother and child who were curled up together on a comfortable settee reading a book. He reached the room where he had been directed and looked in, seeing Remus sitting on a small stool and holding up a stuffed doll, pointing to its stomach as he spoke to an anxious looking little girl sitting in the bed, who couldn't have been more than six years old, if that.

Remus looked tired and pale, but better than he had when Severus had walked out of his hospital room over a week before. Yet he smiled comfortingly to the little girl, and his voice was gentle and patient.

"Your tummy aches because there is a part in there that is swollen up. That's also what makes you feel sick when you eat," Remus said quietly. He took out a pen and drew a line down the left side of the doll's abdomen. "We'll have to make a little cut, right here, to go in and fix the part that's not working right. You won't feel a thing, because you'll be asleep and dreaming, and when you wake up, it will be all over with."

"Will it hurt after?" she asked nervously, and Remus smiled. 

"It might hurt a little bit, but not as much as you are hurting now, I promise," he assured her. "It's like when you have a splinter. Has that happened to you?" She nodded, and Remus continued. "The splinter hurts when it's in, and it might hurt a bit when it gets taken out, but then afterward, it's all better, right? This will be the same thing, only even better, because you'll be able to eat the things you like again, and it won't hurt when you lie down any longer. Does that sound good to you? And you'll have only a teeny tiny little scar, no bigger than the end of your finger - just enough to prove what an adventure you've had during your school holidays, so that people will believe it when you tell them all about it."

The little girl considered Remus' words, frowning for a moment. Then she nodded her blonde head. "All right, Dr. Loopy. But are you sure I can have ice cream again? Mommy hasn't let me in a long time because it made me sick."

"I promise, Maggie, you can have ice cream again," Remus said, ruffling her hair as he stood up. "I'll have Sister come in to get you ready, and then your mum can sit with you until it's time for you to go to sleep."

Remus turned away from his patient, and at that moment, his eyes met Severus', widening in shock. Remus' footsteps hesitated for a moment, but then he continued on toward Severus, a mask of bland politeness falling across his features. "Dr. Snape, this is a surprise," he said as he stepped from the room, pulling the door closed behind him. He raised a brow. "Visiting someone?"

Severus wanted to wince at the way Remus was treating him, so cool and distant, as though they were strangers; it was a glaring difference from the warm smiles and teasing words with which Remus had greeted him the first time they had met or even the caring demeanor he'd just shown to his young patient. Yet Severus knew he deserved it after the way he had behaved.

"Actually, I'm here to ask your professional opinion on a case," Severus replied. It was a necessary bit of misdirection, he thought, since he couldn't be certain that Remus would agree to talk with him otherwise. Remus hadn't answered the one email Severus had sent a few days prior asking about a meeting, nor had he answered his phone when Severus had tried to ring him. Perhaps that was for the best, however; things were usually best handled in person, he'd always found.

"Me?" Remus looked surprised, and Severus wondered if he dared hope that there was a small flash of disappointment in his expression as well. "I didn't know that you consulted on pediatric cases."

Severus shrugged. "I have treated children before, yes," he replied. "I won't say I have a preference for it, the way that you do, but even the very young end up with illnesses that are unusual or difficult to diagnose." He glanced around, noting the busy corridor. "Do you think perhaps we could go to your office? Patient confidentiality, you know. If you're willing to give me a few minutes of your time, that is; you must be extremely busy, since I emailed you earlier this week and hadn't heard back."

He had the satisfaction of seeing Remus flush a bit at that, but he was more relieved at the abrupt nod he received. "All right. I have my lunch hour now anyway. We can go to my office, and you can tell me about this patient of yours, and how you think I can help."

The first hurdle was passed, but Severus wasn't ready to declare victory yet; he was taking a big risk, but he knew that the fact he was having to do so was his own fault. Still, Remus could have turned him away and refused to even speak to him, so any progress was something for which to be grateful.

He followed Remus toward the lifts, although Remus didn't take the glass car, opting instead for the stairs. He led Severus upward, and Severus followed in silence. He could see Remus' tension in the set of his shoulders and the quick, sharp steps he took, and he winced internally again at having messed up so badly that Remus seemed uneasy in his presence. 

Fortunately they only had a short distance to travel, up one flight of stairs, where Remus used his own badge to gain admission to the top floor, the one designated "Sky" on the map Severus had seen. It was an appropriate name, for the area opened up onto the top of the atrium, and the glass allowed the brilliant sunlight to fill the corridor. Remus led him a small distance down the corridor, then opened the door to an office with his name on it: "Dr. Remus John Lupin, Director of Pediatrics".

"Have a seat," Remus said politely, pointing to a brown leather chair which stood opposite a matching sofa against one wall, separated by a low table. "You can hang your coat on the rack there."

The office was airy and spacious, the furnishings elegant and yet comfortable as well. There were pictures taped up all over the walls, crayon drawings done by small hands. There were also a great number of photos, many of them with Remus included among the smiling faces of parents and children; it was obvious that not only was Remus a good doctor, he was also adored by his patients - something that Severus never had been and probably never would be.

Severus sank down on the chair, watching with a hooded gaze as Remus took one end of the sofa, the distance between them not lost on Severus. Still it was better than if Remus had decided to conduct the conversation from the other side of his massive wooden desk, so Severus took it as a neutral sign rather than complete discouragement.

"I was very surprised by the hospital," Severus said quietly, deciding to try to ease the atmosphere before starting on the supposed purpose of his visit. Not that _he_ was nervous, of course; he just wanted Remus to relax a bit and for the wary expression in his eyes to fade. "It's beautiful. I've never seen anyplace like it."

Remus looked a bit startled at Severus' words, as though he hadn't expected Severus to like anything about the place. "The architects are very proud of it, and of course those of us who work here adore it," he said. "But the most important thing is that the children seem to like it. They don't feel frightened and intimidated here, and anything that can help ease their anxiety about being sick is a good thing."

"I can imagine," Severus agreed. "I've not had much contact with children myself, but I know there are plenty of adults who are scared witless by the hospital." He snorted. "I wonder if a few toys might help out with my more recalcitrant patients."

He thought he saw a ghost of a smile curve Remus' lips, but then Remus looked at his watch rather obviously. "Well, it couldn't hurt," he said. "So, Dr. Snape, what about your patient?"

The formal tone was a bit off-putting, but Severus didn't let it stop him. "Yes, well. I have a very puzzling case, and since it's in your area of expertise, I was hoping that you would be willing to consult on it."

Remus raised a brow, his demeanor almost too professional. "Of course. What are the symptoms?"

Severus sat forward on the chair. "Well, the main ones are an inability to eat, restless sleep, extreme irritability, and pains in the upper chest. There have also been headaches and listlessness, difficulty concentrating and occasional clumsiness."

A small frown touched Remus' lips as he mulled over Severus' description, obviously trying to fit the symptoms to possible conditions. "Heart trouble, of course, but you would have already asked Regulus about that, right?" Severus nodded, watching Remus closely. "I take it there is no sign of any bacterial or viral infection?" Severus shook his head. "Did you do a CAT scan?"

"The patient has not expressed any abnormalities, either neurological or physical," Severus replied truthfully. Seeing Remus' obvious concern made him feel a bit bad about this deception, but it was too late to stop now.

"How about Guillain-Barre?" Remus tapped his chin with a finger. "Any tingling or weakness in the extremities, especially the legs? Any recent vaccinations?"

"No vaccinations, although the patient has reported tingling sensations, particularly along the spine." 

"Hmmm..." Remus bit his lip. "What about inflammation? I take it you've ruled out Lupus and JRA?"

"No swelling... of that type," Severus murmured. 

Remus sighed, then shook his head, his expression one of remorse. "I'm sorry, I don't think I'm being very much help to you. I'm not used to the types of diagnoses that you are, I'm afraid. I can take some notes, though, and do some research to see if I can come up with some more concrete suggestions. How old is the patient? Some things are more probable at certain ages."

Severus hesitated for a moment, tension coursing through him, then spoke with offhanded casualness that he didn't feel. "Thirty-eight."

Remus blinked, his mouth falling open. "But... an _adult_? You said that this was in my area of expertise, so I thought you meant pediatrics..."

"I haven't been completely truthful with you." Severus drew in a deep breath. "I know the diagnosis for this patient. What I need your help on is the treatment. I promise, you really are the only one who can help with that."

"You what?" Remus looked totally confused, but at least the wariness was gone from his eyes. It was rather endearing, the way he looked when he was bewildered, and it distracted Severus from any guilt he felt over his deception. At least for the moment.

"I told you a fib. An untruth. A fabrication," Severus said. 

"Why?" Remus still didn't seem to have grasped what was going on, and he even looked a bit hurt at Severus' admission, so Severus hurried on.

"Would you have agreed to talk to me otherwise?" Severus sighed. "I'm sorry, but it was necessary, because I do need your assistance for this patient."

"There really _is_ a patient?" Remus asked doubtfully. 

"Oh, yes. He's in a bad state," Severus drawled, rising to his feet. He wasn't completely certain this would work, but it was far too late to go back, and he didn't even want to. Regulus told him to have faith in his own desires, and if there was anyone worth taking the risk for, it was Remus.

Remus blinked, watching as Severus sank down on the table in front of him, so close that their knees were touching. "He is? Is it terminal?"

"It might be." Severus leaned forward. "If stupidity is a fatal condition. If a grown man can die from throwing away the opportunities he's given." A rueful smile touched Severus' lips as he saw the dawn of understanding in Remus' eyes. "You see, it's a very difficult recovery for someone who hasn't had a lot of reason to have faith in other people, because if he can't trust himself, he can't trust anyone else. Or believe in someone else if he can't believe in himself. After many years of pushing people away, it gets to become an ingrained habit. I believe that the old saying is that a physician is supposed to heal himself, right? But I can't do it. If the offer is still there... I'd like to have a bit of your care. I think that it might be what I really need."

There was silence for several moments, and Remus searched his face, his eyes dark and somber. There was doubt in them, but Severus didn't withdraw or shut himself off. Instead he reached out to take Remus' hands in his. "I know I hurt you, and I'm sorry. I said awful things to you, but I can assure you that I didn't mean them, not really. I have a terrible habit of pushing away the things I want, I think. It's easier than facing the fear of being rejected myself."

Severus had never been so open to anyone about his feelings before, not even Regulus, but he knew that if he were going to convince Remus to give him a chance, he'd have to lay it all on the line. Yet he couldn't help feeling a bit apprehensive, and he looked at Remus pensively, wondering if perhaps he'd messed up so badly that there was no fixing it.

Remus' frown lessened, and he didn't pull away. Severus felt as though he were being searched, Remus' golden gaze stripping away all this masks and prying beneath them in search of the truth. Perhaps Remus didn't want to try again, but merely wanted answers; either way, Severus held still under his scrutiny, letting his feelings of remorse and hope show. Remus' regard went on for so long that Severus began to lose that hope, feeling it fading away as he thought that Remus was probably just searching for the words to let him down easily. After all, Remus was a kind man, Severus had seen it for himself, and he wondered if Remus were wishing for a doll like he'd used with the little girl, so that he could show Severus what it was like to have a broken heart.

But then Remus smiled, a small but genuine smile, like the sun peeking out from behind the clouds on a stormy day. "You're an idiot," he said, but he was holding on tightly to Severus' hands. "You don't know what it felt like for you to kiss me like that, then have to watch you walk away as though you hadn't felt a thing."

"I know what it was like to kiss you like that, then do the walking." Severus frowned and shook his head. "It was stupid, and I can only say I'm sorry and that you were right."

"You owe me for that," Remus replied, although Severus was relieved to see the teasing light return to his eyes. "And for curing me and then treating me as though you were brushing me off. And for driving me crazy thinking you hated me..."

"I do, for all that and more," Severus said with mock humility, then he licked his lips and gave Remus a heated look. "So tell me, how can I make it up to you?"

Remus' eyes sparkled wickedly. "Well," he said slowly, as though pretending to consider the question. "I could make you do all my charts for the next few weeks, so that you'd see how much stress I've been under. Or..."

"Or?"

Remus leaned forward. "Or you could kiss me like you did before, and this time admit that there really is something there. No lies, no prevarication, no shame."

Severus' lips twitched, but the warmth in Remus eyes was sending tingles down his spine, just as he'd said. "I think I can manage that if I have your full cooperation."

He leaned forward, and Remus moved toward him at the same time, meeting him half way. Their lips touched, and it was as though an electric current passed between them. All the suppressed longing Severus hadn't wanted to admit even to himself welled up, and he moaned, lifting his hands to slide them into Remus' hair, holding him fast as he plundered Remus' mouth greedily. Remus responded with equal hunger, parting his lips and inviting Severus to deepen the kiss, which Severus did without hesitation. Tongues twined, breath mixed as they explored each other, and Severus felt fierce satisfaction that Remus seemed to want this as much as he did, that he was being given another chance after almost throwing it all away. Kiss flowed into kiss, desire seeming to climb inexorably toward desperation. It had been so long since Severus had felt this kind of passion, and now that he had given in to it at last, it threatened to overwhelm him completely.

It seemed that Remus felt the same; without breaking the kiss, he moved back on the sofa, placing his hands on Severus' shoulders and urging him to follow, which Severus did willingly. This was much better, for he could pull Remus into this arms and feel Remus press against him eagerly. Remus' hands slid down to wrap around Severus' waist, scrabbling at his back to pull his shirt from his trousers so that he could slide them under and up the bare skin of Severus' back.

A low hiss of pleasure escaped Severus at the feel of Remus' palms caressing over his back, and he pressed Remus down against the leather, moving over him and purring with satisfaction as Remus gasped and writhed at the increased contact. They were much too old for this, grown men making out on a sofa like randy teenagers, but Severus didn't care. It felt wonderful, and more than that, it felt _right_ in a way that far too little in his life had ever felt.

"Severus...." Remus moaned, his face flushed and his eyes dark with passion. His lips were red and swollen from their kisses, and Severus leaned down to nip at the lower one, unable to resist the temptation it presented. 

"What do you want?" Severus asked huskily.

"You." The answer was short and succinct, but effective, punctuated as it was by Remus bucking his hips beneath Severus, leaving him in no doubt of what Remus desired. "Lotion... on my desk. Please..."

Severus shivered at the need in Remus' voice, but he nodded once and moved quickly to fetch the bottle of moisturizer, something that most physicians had on their desks to ease hands that were being constantly washed in harsh soap. He'd barely returned before Remus' hands were unfastening the buttons of his shirt, and Severus put the bottle on the table and hastened to return the favor. Clothing fell to the floor unheeded between hard, greedy kisses, hands caressing over warm, bare skin as each explored the other with frantic urgency.

It had been too long since Severus had been intimate with anyone, and his desire for Remus was almost overwhelming. Remus was just as eager, and it didn't take long before they were both panting and desperate for completion. There would be time for leisurely discovery later, Severus promised them both silently. Right now all that mattered was giving them both the release they craved.

The lotion was cool in Severus' hand, but it warmed up quickly as he prepared Remus, who urged him on with incoherent sounds of pleasure, his fingers scrabbling on the leather cushions. "Yes, enough, now, now, Severus, PLEASE," he groaned, and there was no way that Severus could have denied that entreaty. He lifted up and then with a smooth, slow thrust, he buried himself deeply in Remus' warm, welcoming body.

They were both still for a long, breathless moment, and Severus looked down into Remus' face, seeing his own desire mirrored in Remus' eyes. Remus licked his lips, and then he did something no lover had ever done before - he smiled, his lips curving up and his eyes shining with something that looked very much like love.

Severus was breathless, watching Remus' face, but the demands of his body couldn't be denied for long. He trembled, then began to move, _needing_ to see Remus going wild with pleasure beneath him. Remus gasped and arched against him, wrapping his legs around Severus' thighs and throwing his head back, arching up to meet every thrust with total abandon. He was beautiful, holding nothing back, and Severus could hardly believe how lucky he was to have someone who desired him so much.

He couldn't hold out for long, and he moved a hand between their bodies, wrapping it around Remus' hardness and stroking in time to the movement of their hips. Remus cried out, his eyes flying wide, and then he trembled, shouting Severus' name, and Severus watched eagerly as Remus arched sharply and shattered in his arms.

It was more than Severus could resist, and he continued to move, driving hard and fast into Remus' body. Desire wound tighter and tighter within him, pushing him to toward the precipice, and then with a gasp, he was hurtling over it, his entire body on fire, alive with incredible sensation. Remus' hands were on him, stroking his chest and abdomen, and Remus murmured to him, words of approval, endearment, and love.

Slowly Severus spiraled downward, his body limp and sated in the aftermath of the most powerful release he'd ever experienced. Remus wrapped him in his arms, holding him close, not seeming to mind Severus' weight pressing him down into the sofa. Which was a good thing, because Severus felt as though he might not be able to move ever again.

"Thank you," Remus murmured softly, his hands caressing over Severus' damp back. "I'm so glad you came to me... even if you fibbed to me."

"It wasn't a complete fabrication," Severus protested. "I did tell you that you were the only one who could treat the patient, didn't I? That wasn't a lie."

Remus was quiet for a moment. "Dare I hope that it's an offer?" he asked, and Severus caught the pensiveness of his tone, as though Remus might be afraid this was a one-time thing.

Summoning what energy he could, Severus raised his head and looked down into Remus' eyes. "I suppose it might be," he drawled, raising a questioning brow. "One gainfully employed pediatrician isn't a bad catch for a surly bastard like me, even if I do have a job again."

"So Regulus mentioned... congratulations on that," Remus replied. "It would have been a huge loss to the medical profession for you to do anything but what you do so well."

"Hmmm..." Severus pressed a brief, hard kiss to Remus' lips, then spoke against them. "Do I hear a counteroffer?"

"Actually... you never did fulfill your promise," Remus said, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

"What promise was that?" Severus asked, wondering if he'd forgotten or overlooked something.

"To let me buy you a cup of coffee once I was out of the hospital." Remus grinned, then, a dimple appearing in his cheek. "Keep your promise, and I'll tell you what I'm offering. Do we have a deal?"

"We do," Severus replied, and then he sealed it with a kiss.

Remus hummed in pleasure, returning the kiss fervently, and Severus responded eagerly. They were so absorbed in each other that neither heard the soft knock on the door, nor the click as it opened - but they broke apart at the muffled shriek which followed.

Lifting his head, Severus scowled at Remus' assistant, who stood in the doorway in complete shock, her face as red as the ridiculous Santa hat she was wearing. Her jaw worked as she tried to form words, obviously stunned at finding her boss naked on the sofa with an equally bare Severus on top of him. As she stammered incoherently, Severus smirked. "Merry Christmas. Now kindly shut the door."

She did so, and Severus looked down again to find Remus trembling and red-faced, obviously trying to hold back his laughter. 

"What?" he asked in an aggrieved tone. "It's my naked arse up here that she got to see."

"Lucky her," Remus managed, then chuckled helplessly as Severus watched with a haughtily raised brow. "Sorry, but I never thought to lock the door."

"I'll let you make it up to me," Severus replied. "A triple chocolate latte with espresso _and_ caramel might be a good place to start."

"I think I can manage that," Remus replied, his eyes still dancing with mirth. "Merry Christmas, indeed."

Then he pulled Severus down into another kiss. As it happened, Severus didn't get his coffee for quite a while longer - not that he minded in the least.

-end-


End file.
